


Cherry Crush

by FeelsAreFatal



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alternate Universe, Anal, Azazel is literally the shittiest human being ever, Blowjobs, Bottom!Cas, Destiel - Freeform, F/M, Fem!Sam, Fluff, Gay, Highschool AU, I hate myself, Literally they're really bad, M/M, Quite a bit of angst, Rape, Smut, Suicide, Supernatural - Freeform, Terrible Firemen Jokes, Top!Cas, bottom!Dean, comfort!Dean, handjobs, slight genderbend, top!dean
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-07-02
Updated: 2014-09-13
Packaged: 2018-02-07 03:59:50
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 12
Words: 37,025
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1884504
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/FeelsAreFatal/pseuds/FeelsAreFatal
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Castiel Novak is a good student.<br/>After a particular harsh beating from Azazel, Castiel is left unconscious in the school parking lot with a broken arm and a bleeding head wound. He wakes up to startling green eyes and freckles.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Green Eyes and an Ambulance

It wasn't too bad, the first punch. It made contact somewhere near his temple and it caused Castiel to stagger backwards in shock. He inhaled quietly, biting back a yelp of pain when Azazel landed another vicious blow to his cheek. Castiel dropped his backpack and moved away from it so as not to get it and his laptop involved in the fight. Although, it wasn't so much a fight as it was Castiel getting beaten to a pulp. It's a regular routine, what he has with Azazel. Castiel makes a fast escape from the confines of his school and the boy hungrily seeks him out. Aze doesn't even attend Lawrence High anymore, he graduated last year. Neither one of them is really sure why the older boy likes to use Castiel as his preferred punching bag, just that he does and that Castiel is too timid to fight back. So it goes on.

It doesn't take very long for Azazel to knock him to the grimy sidewalk. He kicked Castiel in the stomach with a disturbingly gleeful laugh, causing the smaller boy to whimper and curl in on himself and pray for it to be over soon. It's not like Castiel hasn't tried asking for help, it's that his mother is often away for days at a time on business and his father is too dead to care. The teachers hadn't believed him. The pummelling stops long enough for Azazel to make sure that his victim is still conscious before resuming his creative combination of kicking and swearing and rolling the limp figure on the ground back and forth with his foot, finding new places to bruise and cut.

Castiel praised himself with the knowledge that this is the longest he has ever lasted. Aze seems to notice this too, because all of a sudden the blows rain down faster and harder than usual. It's a wonder that nobody hears Castiel's pitiful cries of pain and desperation. He thought he heard a crack, thought he felt something in him snap before the darkness settled in. It closed in on him, crept past the edges of his vision and swallowed up the world, dulling the throbbing in his bones before sweeping him into unconsciousness.

%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%

 

Castiel woke to a sharp pain in his elbow. The ground was hard underneath him and his leg was asleep from being still for so long. There was a stone digging into the back of his hip and his arm was screaming at him to get up. It had never been this bad before. He'd been knocked unconscious a number of times, but he had always been up and home before the street lights came on. He guessed it was long past curfew by now, if he was to judge by how dark the sky was. Obviously he wasn't dead because there was a burning pain that was spreading through his limbs.

He heard a small inhale and felt a presence hovering over him. Annoyed, he squeezed his eyes closed tighter before letting them fly open, vision narrowing in on a dark shape looming above him. The boy looked about his age at least, although the worry lines that creased his forehead aged him several years. “Hey man,” he said quietly, “Are you okay?” Unsurprisingly, Castiel responded with a pained moan as he tried to sit up, visibly wincing when he moved his sore arm. The boy stopped him with firm but gentle hands, his emerald eyes flashing with concern. “Don't move. Your arm's broken badly and you're head is bleeding. The ambulance should be here any minute,”

Castiel's chest tightened as the boy's sharp green eyes assessed him thoroughly before the grip loosened from his shoulders and he stepped away. “What's your name? For the medics.”  
“Castiel. Castiel Novak,” he replied hoarsely.  
“I'm Dean," he says with a smile. Several minutes pass and the smile has long fallen from Dean's face before they can hear the sirens wailing. Castiel shivers once, not from the cold but from the nervous anticipation of getting hauled into the ambulance and then rushed to the hospital. He didn't mind doctors too much, in fact, he appreciated their kindness and ability to hurt someone to heal them for the future. It was hospitals that he disliked.

Castiel had been in and out of hospitals his whole life with a bad case of pneumonia that had left him with asthma and an occasional broken finger or toe. Most of his time there, though, was spent alone in waiting rooms and empty cafeterias. His father had had leukaemia for several years, so most weekends were used up waiting for his dad during treatment or follow ups. His mother had never bothered to make an effort to go with him, always claiming that she had work to do or that she wasn't feeling well. It had been during those years that Castiel had realized that his parents had never really been in love. From what his older brother Gabriel had told him, the two had been planning a divorce until Castiel had come along. Cas had heard their mother talking to Gabriel once, saying that she wouldn't waste her life caring for a dying husband that she had never loved.

She needn't worry now, Castiel thought bitterly. For last year had been his father's last.

Castiel blinked back the tears welling up in his eyes when the memories of his father's last day flooded back to him. “Heya Cas?” Dean's expression was anxious and he was watching the other boy with concern. He made a small noise of acknowledgement, eyes glued to the road where the ambulance would soon appear. With a pained yelp he sat up quickly and hissed as he pulled in his legs to sit cross-legged. “Dude! You aren't supposed to move,” he growled.

Castiel absently gave him the finger while watching the road anxiously. He wondered if they would set his arm en route or wait until they reached the hospital. “Are you okay? I mean, it seems like you're upset about more than getting half beaten to death.” Castiel pursed his lips thoughtfully and allowed a small chuckle to slip out that turned into a pitiful moan when the ambulance rounded the corner. Dean watched him with a mild look of horror. “Cas?” Their eyes met and the smaller boy frowned,  
“Why are you calling me that?” he asked.  
“Wha-? Oh. I dunno. Your name is a bit of a mouthful so...” He trailed off with an awkward shrug. The paramedics hustled out of the ambulance and ran towards the boys with a stretcher. An older woman who's name tag read Missouri knelt beside them.  
“Did you move him?” she demanded harshly. Dean opened his mouth to speak but Castiel cut him off quickly.  
“I moved myself. The ground was hurting my back more than sitting up did.” The woman frowned with disapproval but didn't say anything else as she set up his arm in a sling while a second paramedic checked for any other possible breaks.

Cold fingers prodded at his neck and shoulders before moving down to jab at his ribs. Castiel gasped and winced at the jolt of pain that shot through him when the man poked at a lower rib. . The medics murmured between themselves before helping him up. Thankfully he could walk without any assistance.

As they led him away, he noticed with a panicked whimper that Dean was not coming with him and struggled against the firm hands pulling him towards the ambulance. He wasn't going to the hospital by himself, not when so many of his family had never returned. “No,” he breathed, “I can't-” He hissed in pain as he tried to rip his arm out of Missouri's tight grasp. They couldn't force him to go there, to that cold building that smelled of antiseptic soap and death. He wouldn't go, not to the place of too-bright lights and gasping, dying patients. His father had died there, his grandparents had died there, his brother Uriel had died there, it was only a matter of time until he died there too. His breath came faster while he strained against the hard grip of the paramedics' hands. “I won't go!” he growled.

Castiel kicked out and hit something pliant, forcing a shriek of pain from the male medic's mouth. The grip on his arms loosened and he lurched forward and away from the cold hands that had been driving him forward. Startled eyes followed him as he tripped away from the road and towards the school. His heart was beating in small bursts, skipping beats and falling over itself. He couldn't breathe, it was ridiculous to be afraid of the hospital, that Castiel knew but fuck, he couldn't breathe.

“Cas!” A calloused hand gripped his shoulder and he turned his wide blue eyes to stare at it's owner. His heart stuttered and his throat tightened, blocking any words that wanted to spill out. There was something oddly calming in the emerald depths of Dean's eyes and Castiel felt himself relax under the boy's touch, ignoring the alarm bells that were ringing in the recesses of his mind. “Cas, you need to calm down okay? These people aren't going to hurt you.” It sounded like Castiel was a child that needed to be reassured, or an abused puppy. He never blinked, never took his eyes off of Dean. “Cas? Did you hear me? I said you need to go to the hospital. You're arm is badly broken and you need stitches. The doctors will patch you up and then I'll drive you home okay?” Castiel nodded stiffly but didn't move towards the waiting paramedics. He stood there and stared like a deer in the headlights until Dean pressed a hand to the dip in his lower back and pushed him forward.

Castiel's brain was numb and he left his body to autopilot for the rest of the night.

%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%

 

Castiel knocked on the door with his good hand and winced when his mother opened the door, he had been hoping that she would be asleep.  
“Castiel Novak!” she hissed angrily, grabbing his bicep and pulling him in through the threshold to give him a fierce and painful hug. “What the hell happened to you?”

He slipped out of her arms and whipped out the clueless teenager act, scratching his head with a sheepish smile.  
“Oh, I was fooling around with some guys and one of 'em let me try out their skateboard,” he chuckled tiredly. “And, uh, I guess I'm not as good as I thought I was. Fell off and hit my head and I guess they got freaked out and ran. I probably would still be trying to figure out how to get home of not for Dean.”

His gaze flicked towards the well built figure looming in the doorway wearing a disapproving frown on his face. Apparently he had thought Cas would tell his mom the truth. Naomi looked to Dean for confirmation and for a split second Castiel thought that he was done for. But, Dean just nodded and smiled awkwardly.  
“Idiot was lying face-down on the pavement. It's a shame I wasn't there when he fell, probably would've laughed my ass off,” he said. Naomi pressed her lips into a tight line and her eyes bored into her son's wild blue ones. Dean wondered if maybe she knew that they were lying. If she did, she didn't say anything though because she turned and hugged him with same amount of ferocity that she had her son.

“Thank you,” said Naomi quietly, “I am in your debt, Dean.” She stepped away and wiped away a small tear. “Castiel, off to bed. Get an aspirin if you need one, I'll be up in a minute to talk to you.” Her eyes never left Dean, even as her son huffed angrily and turned to stumble up the stairs. She waited until his door slammed before stepping outside and closing the door behind her. “Dean, I need you to tell me what really happened.”

Dean tried not to choke.  
“I'm sorry?” Naomi crossed her arms and lifted her head to look at the sky.  
“Dean, I'm not an idiot. I can tell when my own son is lying to me. He hates skateboards, he hasn't 'hung out' with anyone since his father died and he's been coming home with more and more bruises everyday, sometimes hours past curfew claiming that he 'lost track of time' or that he fell asleep at the library. I've called the school and they can't tell me anything, I've called his friends and they say that he's barely there, just a shell of his old self. Please,” her voice broke, “I need to know what's happening to him.” Her fingers tightened their grip on her arms and he could see her nails digging into the flesh of her bicep.

He thought about telling her, for a second. He really did.

“I'm sorry, Mrs. Novak, but I honestly couldn't tell you. Aside from tonight I've never spoken to Castiel before in my life, let alone spent time with him. I don't know any more than you do.” He figured it wasn't such a terrible lie. It wasn't like he knew what had actually happened – sure, he had an _idea -_ Azazel wasn't the most subtle person out there, but how could he possibly know that that was what was happening? He couldn't, so why just rile up Castiel's mom even more? Her face fell and she looked down at her feet.  
“Oh,” she said, and her voice was quiet, “I see. Well, thank you Dean. I'm sure I'll see you around.” She looked up at him, her eyes terribly sad and then she turned around and walked inside, leaving Dean alone on the front step of the Novak house for the first time.

%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%

 

Castiel's mom let him stay home the next day. She left a note on the counter encouraging him to call her if he needed anything. He moped around for an hour, opening and closing then reopening the cupboards again, looking for something that didn't require to much effort to put together. He settled on chocolate Pop Tarts and nibbled at them while he checked the answering machine for messages. There were several from his older brother Gabriel, most of them consisting of requests for Castiel or Naomi to call him back. There were also two from his friends wondering where he was and one from Dean Winchester.

“Hey Cas. I got your number from Garth. Just wondering how you're holding up. Call me back at this number. We need to talk.”

Castiel pulled out his phone and programmed Dean's number in for later. He deleted all the messages and moved into the living room to play Burnout Paradise on the PS3. After a few minutes of consideration he put his headset on and connected to multi-player. He took another bite out of his Pop Tart and commenced with whooping some ass.

%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%

Several hours of trash talk and a pair of sore thumbs later, Castiel logged off with a dozen new trophies. Despite having the disadvantage of having only one movable elbow, he had won most of his races and made a twelve year old cry. He chalked it up to an extremely productive day.

The phone rang as he was making his way back towards the living room with a jug of orange juice and a bag of chips. He put his snack down on the counter and limped over to the phone.  
“Hello?”  
“Cas? It's Dean. I was just calling to make sure you got my message?”  
“Oh shit! Fuck!” He gripped his hair at the roots and pulled in frustration. He had meant to return Dean's call – he really had, but what with his eight-hour-long video game binge he'd forgotten.  
“Cas?”  
“Yeah. Uh, sorry about that. I meant to call but I got preoccupied and-” Dean cut off his rambling with a small chuckle and Castiel's cheeks blazed.  
“Dude it's fine, you're not obligated or anything. I just wanted to make sure you hadn't gone and died in the night because of some internal bleeding that the doctors didn't notice,” he said, voice light and teasing. Castiel felt his blush deepen and he was glad that Dean couldn't see him at the moment.

What the fuck, Cas? He growled at himself. Get your shit together and stop acting like a pussy-ass school girl with a crush on the football captain. He'd only just met Dean the day before and the guy already had him blushing like a virgin in a whorehouse.  
“Cas? You still alive?” He joked, trying to hide the concern in his voice. Castiel mentally punched himself in the face for spacing.  
“Yeah. I mean, yes. I was just distracted,” he said quickly. Dean huffed a laugh,  
“Do I wanna know?” Castiel scoffed and rolled his eyes.  
“Yeah, actually I was jacking off to the sound of your voice. That velvety purr really gets me going,” he replied sarcastically. Dean made a surprised noise and clucked his tongue,  
“Wow I guess I really made an impression last night,”  
“Hm? Oh! No, I've actually known you for years. Been following you around since freshman year and taking your picture.” He dropped his voice to a throaty whisper, much to Dean's amusement, “I have a collage in my locker – you wanna see it?” Dean sounded like he was nearly in tears.  
“Okay sure, but only if it's heart shaped.” Castiel snorted.  
“Dude are you kidding me? I made a fucking frame for it using glitter and seashells.”  
“Man, that's awesome. Except if I remember correctly, you've only just moved to Lawrence around the middle of last year,” said Dean.

That was odd. If Castiel remembered correctly, nobody had paid much attention to him aside from his first day. Several students had even admitted to believing that he was an exchange student from Russia.

After his father's death Castiel's brother Gabriel had decided it was high time for him to move out. Michael had already done so the year before, leaving Castiel alone with his over-protective mother. Naomi wasn't a bad person, she just believed that she could work double shifts at the hospital almost every night and still run her son's life for him. He imagined that after yesterday's incident, she would only grow worse.

He pinched the bridge of his nose between his thumb and forefinger and sighed with withdrawal. It wasn't her fault, he was the only one of her three living children that still lived in the house. He imagined that the fact that she was a doctor in the emergency room also had something to do with it, what with seeing all the messed up kids that came in. He had been surprised that she wasn't working the night shift when Dean had brought him in.

“Dude? Are you okay?” Dammit, he'd done it again.  
“I'm sorry Dean. I'm just super tired right now. Can I call you tomorrow? Or better yet, maybe I'll talk to you face to face if my mom decides I'm fit for school.”  
“Sure, don't worry about it. I'll talk to you later, Cas.”  
“See ya.” He hung up the phone and realized that what he'd told Dean was true, he was sure that he'd be asleep as soon as he hit the pillow. Sullenly he put the chips and juice away before trudging up the stairs to his small room.

Flopping onto the bed, he stared up at the peeling blue paint on his ceiling. He noted that he should probably repaint his room and immediately started coming up with ideas to redecorate the whole thing. He figured since he didn't actually do anything with his life he could afford to dish out a little extra to paint the walls navy and change everything to match the navy and cream color scheme he was thinking up.

He glared across the room when his laptop beeped, startling him from his plans with an e-mail alert. Castiel sighed much louder than he needed to and marched across the room to open it up. It was from his cousin Anna, inviting him to a Valentine's Day party and telling him to show up with a date 'or else'. He doubted that he would go, mostly because he had a lack of enthusiasm to celebrate being a couple when he had no one to be a couple with. He wondered briefly if he should ask Dean, then rapidly cutting the idea off with a reminder that Dean was probably straight.

Probably.

Now that he thought of it, he had seen Dean around school quite often with one of the girls from Photography Club. Lisa Braeden, he thought her name was. Personally, he'd never seen them act anything but platonic with each other, although Hester, Lawrence High's biggest gossip, claimed that they'd slept together numerous times. How odd, now that Castiel thought about it... maybe he had known of Dean before yesterday.

Yes, he remembered Hester complaining about what a slut Dean was, and Balthazar mentioning to him that Anna wanted to sleep with him. At the time he'd focused on the fact that Balthazar's little sister may not want him sharing such information with their cousin, no matter how close the two were.

Balthazar was a bit of a ditz, constantly flirting with anyone and everyone in that velvety accent of his. Him and Anna had moved from England with their parents a year before Castiel had started school in Lawrence so he'd already made friends by the time Castiel had arrived, eagerly welcoming him into the group.

The computer dinged again, with an email from his buddy Chuck. Cas frowned and decided to wait until morning to answer it, fatigue already settling in and weighing down his eyelids. He turned off the computer and fell back into bed, this time fully intending to go to sleep.

%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%

 

“What are you talking about I can't go to school?” he demanded over the phone. His mother had yet again left him a note telling him to stay home from school. “This is getting ridiculous mom! It's been a week. I'm going to start failing classes!”  
“Castiel, don't be so melodramatic. I'll call the school and have them photocopy some notes,” she said. He could tell that she was trying not to yell because she was at work and frankly, he didn't care. Contrary to popular belief he actually enjoyed school.  
“I have a broken arm! It's not even my writing hand!” He didn't give a fuck that he sounded like a whiny three year old, enough was enough. One could only play so many video games before they got bored out of their skull.  
Dean had been calling him every day after school, for what reason Castiel did not know, and kept him updated on what was going on around the school. Apparently the gym teacher had been encouraging the football team to use steroids and had been sent on a forced leave. Dean said that the replacement was a woman named Ellen Harvelle and that she was a hundred times better than the previous coach had been anyways.

He mentioned a few other names that Castiel didn't recognize until he finished off with the new girl's rugby captain Meg Masters. According to Dean she was a cutthroat bitch who's opinion was her way or the highway. Castiel smiled to himself. He and Meg had become friends during the weeks leading up to Azazel's latest assault. He knew all too well Meg's snappy temper. Dean had chuckled a little when he recounted the story of how one of the jocks had made a move on her and she'd almost put one of her stilettos through his foot. Castiel had laughed at that and wished he was back at school.

He wondered if Dean would still keep in contact with him when he returned and thought of no reason he wouldn't aside from that Castiel was kind of a nerd.

“Castiel, I don't want you going back to school if you're just going to come back worse off than when you started.”  
“Mom, I told you it was a skateboarding accident and that it's put me off the sport forever.”  
“Castiel-”  
“You know what? I don't even care. I'm going to school today.” He hung up before she could answer.

%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%

 

“Castiel Novak? Your mother said you were staying at home today,” the secretary said, regarding him suspiciously. He pursed his lips in annoyance but nodded.  
“Yeah, she didn't want me to come, but I figured I may as well start playing catch up as soon as possible.” He smiled tightly. The secretary looked skeptical but filled out a late slip and sent him to class. He didn't bother getting anything from his locker since there were only five minutes left of class and it was English so it didn't require many notes.

He slid into his seat beside Chuck who, understandably, looked startled to see him. “What are we working on?” he asked quietly, earning a few surprised glances from his classmates. Chuck slid his notebook over to show him the notes and explained they had to write four free verse poems about their take on love.

Castiel scrunched up his nose at the topic but buckled down and listed a few ideas, not really diving too deep into it like he would if it was a full period. To be honest, Castiel thought love was irrational and decided to base his first poem around the topic of how stupid he thought it really was. Chuck had smiled at Castiel's opinion and resumed his first draft of “Drinking Away the Heartache”.

“Mr Novak.” He looked up at his teacher in surprise. He'd been so focused on his work, despite his best intentions not to get too involved in the last few minutes, that he hadn't heard her come up behind him.  
“Ms. Barnes,” he replied as calmly as possible. Miss Pamela Barnes was an oddity. She was legally blind, although she could still write and teach as well as, if not better than her co-workers. She read all the same stories as the class, having the students read aloud or even going so far as to using money out of her own pocket to purchase a version in braille so she could read it in her own time. Aside from the Art teacher, Castiel's own brother Gabriel, Ms. Barnes was by far his favorite teacher.

“I didn't see you come in,” she said evenly. Castiel returned his gaze to her, unsure if he should laugh. He shifted awkwardly in his chair. “Castiel, that was a joke.” She smiled warmly from behind her sunglasses.

Ms. Barnes's sunglasses were something of an inside joke with her homeroom class, which Castiel was lucky enough to be a part of. She seemed to wear a different pair every day, often times she would buy a plain pair from the Family Dollar and decorate them with sequins or plastic flowers. Since she didn't need to see out of them, she would usually decorate the lenses. Castiel remembered the day that she had come to school with tiny googly eyes all over the lenses. Today though, she had on fairly normal aviators with rhinestones on the arms.

“Oh sorry,” he said sheepishly, a blush rising to his cheeks. Ms. Barnes laughed easily and put a reassuring hand on his shoulder.  
“It's fine. Do you have a present for me?” She waggled her eyebrows and held out her hand with a smile.  
“Oh, yeah. Sorry I forgot.” He fished around in his pocket for the late slip and handed it to her. She ran her thumb over the writing and ripped it in half before tossing it in the recycling. He frowned and wondered if he even needed an actual late slip or if he could just write down what one said and handed that in. Ms. Barnes seemed to guess what he was thinking because she shook her head.  
“Thanks Castiel.” She glided up to the front of class, seating arrangement burned into her brain. “Alrighty. 'S time for lunch. Pack up your crap and get out.” She gestured in the general direction of the door before turning to erase the blackboard and prepare for her next class.

For once, Castiel was one of the first to leave. He turned around on his way out the door to say something to Chuck about lunch but was cut off when he ran smack into a solid chest with a small "Oof". He jumped back abruptly with a small yelp and looked up into the familiar laughing green eyes of Dean Winchester.  
“If I'd known you'd attack me I wouldn't have come,” he said with a wry smile. Castiel's heart caught in his chest at the spark of amusement in the other boy's eyes.  
“Sorry, I thought you were some sort of troll trying to catch one of my classmates for your next meal,” he replied, voice light and sarcastic. Dean barked a laugh and stepped out of the way so Cas could pass. He followed him upstairs to Castiel's locker, keeping up their easy banter the whole way. Castiel had no reason to worry about Dean losing interest in him upon his return to school.  
“Ah, and here I thought you were just happy to see me.” Castiel turned his head in a failed attempt to hide his flush. Dean's grin grew wider and they walked to the cafeteria in silence.

They stop in the doorway, standing awkwardly between their two groups of friends. Castiel glanced at Dean before huffing out a breathe of frustration and marched over to his table and settled in between Balthazar and Chuck. Becky, who worked for the school newspaper was eagerly telling them a story that nobody was paying attention to. She was using over excessive hand gestures and saying 'like' too much for the tale to be anything but annoying to hear.

Castiel pulled out his wrap and dug in, not bothering to say anything. Meg appeared beside him and Chuck immediately slid all the way over to sit beside Becky, giving the newcomer a wide berth. It wasn't unusual for Meg to sit with Castiel's group, she had said once that she appreciated the fact that nobody needed to talk or gossip to be comfortable – that and she hated Ruby with all her heart.

Ruby was the captain of Lawrence High's Spirit Squad and liked to make everyone's lives living hell. She often sat with the rest of the squad or at the jocks' table, although she might occasionally sit right beside Meg if she felt particularly annoying that day. Castiel admitted that he didn't like her much either but he and Meg had become fast friends.

He was just as startled as the rest of the group when Dean plopped down between Castiel and Balthazar, much to Balthazar's discontent. Meg glared at Dean behind Castiel's back and he kicked her in the ankle, his expression warning her off. The discomfort levels soared high enough that Castiel decided to break the silence.

“So Azazel broke my fucking arm,” he said. Chuck and Becky gasped and shared a look of concern before staring at Castiel sadly. It was obvious with the cast on that he'd broken it, although it seemed like nobody had known how.

Balthazar hissed a curse in something other than English and Meg slammed a fist into the table. Dean tensed up beside him and Castiel saw his jaw clench angrily, although the boy didn't say anything. Meg muttered several threats under her breath before stabbing at her baked potato with her fork.  
“Cassie, I don't see why you don't just let me walk you home,” Meg griped, “I'll teach him a lesson he won't forget.” She took another angry bite. “Fucking rip his dick off,” she muttered. Chuck was staring at her with wide, frightened eyes. He took several moments before clearing his throat and hesitantly saying,  
“Or, um, or you could just tell a teacher,” his voice was soft as if he already knew that his idea would get shot down. Balthazar scoffed.  
“You two aren't helping anything. If Cassie tells a teacher, he'll just get pummeled worse for being a tattle tale, and if Meg beats Azazel up he'll come back to pummel Cassie for being a wuss. Either way, he gets beat up worse than he already is.”  
“So just kill him,” Meg supplied. “I'll even hide the body if you want-”

Dean cleared his throat. “I think what they're saying, Cas, is that you should stand up for yourself next time. If Aze knows you can fight back, maybe he'll stop messing with you.” His eyes were soft and understanding, like he knew from experience what he was talking about.

Castiel had a hard time believing that Dean Winchester could ever get bullied.

“Maybe?” He clarified hesitantly. Balthazar smiled tightly.  
“Then there's always the chance that he decides he likes you putting up a fight and it gets worse,” Balthazar said bluntly. Dean glared at Castiel's cousin and frowned.  
“Couldn't you just call the police?” The group turned towards the small voice that had suddenly appeared. There was a slender freshman girl standing behind Dean with choppy brown hair that reached her shoulders. Her nose was dappled with freckles, though not as many as Dean, and her eyes were a chocolatey brown. Dean turned and smiled at the girl, moving his arms so she could perch on his knee.

“Guys, this is Samantha, my little sister.” She frowned in disapproval.  
“Call me Sam. But seriously, call the cops. I'm assuming his at least eighteen so he could get put away for assault, verbal harassment.” She lifted a suggestive brow at Castiel. “Sexual harassment.” Everyone held their breath and looked at Cas. His cheeks flamed and he ducked his head.  
“No. No, nothing like that!” he protested. Dean frowned angrily and muttered something under his breath. Meg narrowed her eyes.  
“What was that, Winchester?” she demanded. He lifted his head and looked her in the eye, unfazed.  
“I said 'yet'. It hasn't happened, yet.” The table fell silent and Castiel suddenly shoved his chair back and stormed out, shoulders hunched angrily. Dean stared after him in confused silence before he realized that he had probably upset him.

Sam stood up and sent an apologetic glance towards her brother before leaving quietly, abandoning Dean to the hateful stares of Castiel's friends. Meg was the exception. She glared at the rest of the table, lifting her chin snobbishly.  
“I agree with Dean.”  
“What?!” Becky hissed, skinny arms folded across her chest. Meg shrugged and Dean wondered if she was friends with anyone other than Castiel. He doubted it.  
“I think he's right. Either Castiel stands up for himself, or we step in."  
“Meg,” Chuck protested.  
“What? Just 'cause you guys are too pussy to stand up for one of your best friends doesn't mean I won't!” Dean watched the exchange awkwardly.  
“Meg, you can't-” Becky began.  
“Like hell I can't! It's just going to get worse you know. One day that kid's going to get raped, or beaten to death." She looked somberly around the table. 

%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%

“Cas?” Dean ducked his head under the bleachers. Sure enough, there was a slender, hunched figure in a trench coat sitting at the far end and ripping what was left of the grass out of the ground. The boy glared in his direction but didn't tell him to go away so Dean continued forward, picking his way around broken glass and condom wrappers to sit beside Castiel.

“Look man, I'm sorry. I didn't mean to -”  
“Don't apologize,” Cas cut him off. “Don't say you're sorry, because it's true."  
“Cas-”  
“No! It's true.” He shook his head and avoided looking at anything but Dean . He couldn't bear to see pity in those green eyes of his, couldn't stand to think that Dean was only here out of sadness for Castiel. He was right, sooner or later it wouldn't be enough for Azazel to just beat him unconscious. Soon enough it wouldn't just be bruises that he was hiding from his mother.  
“Castiel.” Dean's voice was firm and Cas could feel the sharp emerald gaze demanding to be looked at. He lifted his head and frowned.

If he lived in a movie, Dean would kiss him right now. He would kiss away all his worries, promise to make things better and that they would conquer the world together. The they would get rid of Azazel somehow and maybe live happily ever after, if it was a happy story. One of them would due in a terrible accident if it wasn't. Castiel realized with a jolt that he wouldn't mind if he was kissed by Dean Winchester. In fact, he _wanted_ Dean to kiss him. They were almost close enough, all he had to do was turn his face and lean forward a little bit and- “Cas. It's fine. We'll figure something out. I'll teach you karate or something.”

But he didn't live in a movie and Dean Winchester would never kiss him and tell him that they could conquer the world together, because they didn't even really know each other.

Castiel retreated back into his trench coat with a sigh. He didn't want to know karate or Mui Thai or Ju Jitsu. He wanted Azazel to show up right there and go after him. He wanted Dean to see Azazel's hands on Castiel and then beat him to a bloody pulp. He wanted Dean to protect him and then pull him into a ragged kiss.

He wanted Dean to want that.

“Dude, are you okay? You went kinda teary eyed on me there.” Dean's voice was wary as he stood up. He had to bend over so that he wouldn't hit his head and he offered a hand to help Castiel stand. He waved it off, only because he didn't trust himself not to grab his hand and pull him down on top of him so they could – ah fuck, when did he start feeling that way about Dean?

“I should head to class,” he replied, completely ignoring the question. “I don't want to be late on my first day back.” Dean narrowed his eyes at Castiel.  
“Right.” He led the way out from under the bleachers and towards the school, Castiel following close behind him and trying not to think about the fact that Dean's jeans were tight in all the right places.

They had reached the doors when Dean suddenly turned around, causing Castiel run right into his chest. “You're not going to class,” he said simply. Castiel groaned in frustration. Why the hell is everyone so determined to ruin his education?  
“Dean, I've been back for an hour, I need to-”  
“Shut up, Cas! I wanna take you out for Slurpees.” Castiel's brow furrowed in confusion and his head tilted curiously to the side. Was Dean asking him to ditch school to go on a date? What the hell? He narrowed his eyes.  
“Why?” Dean shrugged and cast a mischievous glance towards him.  
“Why the hell not? You got the shit beaten out of you and you survived. Now that you finally broke house arrest, why not celebrate?”  
“Alright, fine. You've convinced me,” he decided. Dean grinned and grabbed the collar of Castiel's shirt.  
“Let's go, bitch!”


	2. When It Crashes, It Burns

They walk to Seven Eleven quickly, Dean occasionally commenting on Cas's bedhead or jabbing him in the good arm with his elbow, making Cas shriek and cuff him in the ear with a grin. They talked about what he'd missed at school, it turned out that Dean was actually in a lot of Castiel's classes and he just hadn't noticed him. Dean said it was because Cas always sat at least a row in front of him and was too busy actually learning to pay attention to what was 'really important'. 

Castiel scoffed and told him that he had better things to do than gawk at ugly scenery.

Their arrival at Seven Eleven was noisy, both of them cackling hysterically at one of Dean's many inappropriate jokes. Nobody seemed to think it odd that two high school students were at a gas station corner store at one in the afternoon, in fact, the girl at the counter couldn't be any older than Castiel. She was very slender, almost an unhealthy skinny and dressed all in black. Her hair was black and purple and she had multiple facial piercings. She grinned wolfishly at him and ran her pierced tongue over her teeth. It sent an uncomfortable shiver down his spine and he turned away, face burning.

He followed Dean to the back of the store and pulled a blue cup out of the dispenser. He frowned at the dispensers and decided to take some of everything. Except banana. Banana was gross. He popped on a lid while he waited for Dean and selected a purple straw. He took a sip from he Slurpee and winced at the tang of whatever flavours had mixed together at the bottom. Frowning, he smacked his lips at the strange flavour and contemplatively took another sip. He swished it around in his mouth and decided that yes, he did like the taste of Blue Raspberry, Lemonade and Coca Cola mixed together. 

Dean seemed to have finally decided what flavour he wanted and reached across the counter for a lid and straw, not putting in any effort into choosing which colour he wanted. As he stretched across, his shirt lifted to show off a tanned and exquisitely toned abdomen. Castiel turned pink and forced himself to look away. He turned and walked back to the register the set his cup on the counter. 

He rifled through his wallet for something smaller than a ten while he waited for the girl to finish refilling the nacho cheese machine, frowning to himself when she winked at him coquettishly. Dean stepped up beside him and placed his cup up along with Castiel's and whipped out a five.   
“Dean-” he tried to protest, moving to take his cup off but Dean cut him off with a glare.  
“Dude, I said I was taking you out for Slurpees, now stow the independent bitch act and put your damn wallet away.” Jesus Christ was there anything Castiel wouldn't blush at? Dean must think getting Castiel flustered was an Olympic sport because he was awfully good at it.

Lady Gothica, or Bethany according to her name tag gave Dean his change and moved to pass Castiel his cup with a smile that was more creepy than flirtatious. His cheeks flamed when she let her fingers linger at his wrist far too long to be an accident. He snatched his cup and his hand away a retreated quickly out the door, the small bell ringing to announce his departure. 

Dean was close to tears and doubled over laughing. “Aw man, that was rich!” He hooted, “Holy shit, Cas. Talk about subtlety! Oh I think the Seven Eleven Vampire's got a crush on you,” his giddiness bnjm was infectious and they were soon stumbling down the street howling with laughter. 

They ended up on a dead end side street, sitting on the curb with their legs sprawled all over the road. Dean asked him what flavour he'd gotten and wrinkled his nose when Castiel listed all of them but one. “Dude! What have you got against bananas?” Castiel smiled wickedly.  
“Ever heard of a Banana Spider?” He responded with quiet amusement. Dean shook his head.  
“Do I want to?”  
“Look up a picture,” Castiel insisted innocently, slurping loudly. “Also, artificial banana tastes like ass.” Dean smirked at him.  
“How would you know what ass tastes like?” He scoffed, rolling his eyes. Castiel stiffened for a moment before waggling his eyebrows suggestively, causing Dean to erupt in a fit of giggles. “Dude seriously?” Cas shrugged and took another noisy sip before leaning over to peer into Dean's cup.  
“What'd you get?” He asked around a mouthful of ice.   
“Cherry Crush. Dude, if it's cherry it's beautiful.” Castiel chose not to make a comment about 'popping cherries' because to be honest, his mind tended to drown in the gutter if he spent any amount of time with Dean. Castiel snagged the cup out of Dean's hand and took a long sip, rolling around his tongue. He raised his eyebrows appreciatively and handed it back.  
“Not bad.”   
%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%

They had spent the rest of the day wandering around the neighbourhood, just talking. 

Castiel had discovered that Dean had never had a pet because he was allergic to cats and he apparently 'didn't do dogs'. He had also learned that Dean either wanted to become a mechanic or a fisherman, although he said that his Dad was going to hand over the family business to him once high school was done. Dean explained that he was excited to run the family's auto shop and that he might even go to college to learn how to fix the 'fancy ass' sports cars and possibly business studies, although it sort of depended on where his sister Sam wanted to go to school.

Though Dean had hardly mentioned her in their hours-long conversation, Castiel could tell that there wasn't much he wouldn't do for Sam. Whenever he did talk about her, his eyes would light up a little and he'd smile ruefully.   
“She's a smart ass,” he said fondly, “She wants to be a lawyer, the little shit already has it all planned out. Wants to go to Stanford before moving over to Harvard.” His grin a drooped a little after that. “Jesus, I dunno how we're gonna pay for it. Mechanics certainly aren't all that rich, unless you live in Cali and fix Lamborghinis all day, every day.” He ran a calloused hand over his face and sighed before changing the topic rather obviously. “What do you wanna be, Cas?”

He smiled.   
“Either a photographer or a doctor,” he tilted his head a little bit and started balancing on the curb, kicking an empty Monster can out of his way and spreading out his arms like wings. “Maybe both, although doctors don't have much free time,” he said absently. Neither job paid well unless you were really good at it, and of you wanted to be good you had to put your job first so you didn't have much of an opportunity for family, or friends. Photographers tended to travel a lot. He already knew how time consuming being a doctor was. His mother was proof. 

“My mother works at the hospital.” He murmured, yelping as he lost his balance. He flapped his arms awkwardly and managed to sway back onto the curb, Dean placing his hand on Castiel's bicep to steady him. The touch made him warm despite the nippy breeze in the air. He could have sworn that the small touch had lasted a heartbeat longer than it needed to and his gaze flicked over to Dean's face. He caught Dean's eye and the other boy smiled warmly before continuing down the street. 

“Dean, what time is it?” Castiel asked suddenly. Dean checked his watch, which Castiel thought was odd, that an eighteen year old was wearing a watch.  
“Oh shit, like four thirty. Do you need to be home?” Castiel nodded and searched for a street sign. Oh. They were only a block away.  
“We're really close,” he looked at Dean curiously before biting his lip, “You wanna stay for dinner? My mom's going in around five so she won't mind.” Dean paused before tilting his head into a nod.

They were two houses down when he tripped. He fell right off the curb towards the street and somehow ended up tangled in Dean's arms. The world seemed to pause right then, it stopped long enough for Castiel to see every fleck of green and gold in Dean's eyes, long enough for him to watch the tip of Dean's tongue dart out to lick his lips and stare at Castiel hungrily. 

They were so close that, if he had enough time, Castiel could count every spot in that galaxy of freckles that were scattered across Dean's face.

He wasn't sure who did it, but one of them moved, just slightly. Then they were on each other. Their mouths brushed quickly, before Castiel adjusted the angle of his mouth and their lips locked. Dean's fingers bunched in the back of Castiel's sweater, pulling him more firmly against his chest. Castiel let out a small sigh and shoved his hands through the soft spikes of Dean's hair, delving deeper into the kiss. There was a small scrape of teeth before Dean suddenly wrenched away with a gasp, staggering backwards into the street with an unreadable expression on his face. 

“Stop.”

Castiel could guess how he looked to Dean, lips swollen from kissing and his sweater all askew, his hair messed up more than usual and eyes filled with hurt and confusion. His head was spinning, it wouldn't stop, and he took a clumsy step forward. “Dean-” his voice was hoarse, scruffier than usual. “Dean, I'm sorry. I didn't mean-”  
“Shut up Castiel.” The use of his full name shocked him out of his dizziness. Dean's expression was guarded and he was tensed to flee.   
“Dean. I'm sorry -” that green gaze was cold and it reminded him of a predator before it bit its prey's head off.  
“I said shut up,”  
“No! I'm sorry! I wasn't thinking, it was an accident and a mistake, I know that.” He though he saw something flash in that heartless glare, but he was sure that he imagined it. They stared each other down for several moments before Dean turned his face away, jaw clenched angrily.   
“I think I'll pass on dinner tonight,” he managed, starting to walk away. He paused then spun around. “Where's the bus stop?”

Castiel pointed him in the right direction before walking the rest of the way home and hopping up the steps.

%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%

 

Later that night, after a meal of Kraft Dinner, Castiel found himself on his bed and staring at the chipping paint on his ceiling. He felt tired to the bone, although he'd hardly done anything that day, and he wanted to sleep forever. He wanted to sleep until Dean didn't feel bad about the kiss and came back for more. 

He fell asleep faster than he thought he would and dreamed of nothing. His sleep was deep and when he woke up the next morning he had to force his eyes to open. Now that he'd been to school, his mother expected him to go today as well. 

Castiel's eyelids felt sticky when he blinked, moving around the house at the same speed as a three legged turtle. He ate a gourmet breakfast of Cheerios and a glass of water before crawling back upstairs to get dressed. He skipped over his usual sweater and pulled out a pair of jeans and a tight fitting black v-neck tee. Castiel looked in the mirror and frowned. His hair looked like a rat had nested in it. 

With a sigh, Cas rearranged it into it's usual messy style and grabbed a beige cable knot sweater. He fiddled around with the large brown wooden buttons and struggled to put it on. He grumbled angrily and threw it across the room when the sleeve wouldn't fit over his cast. He'll just have to freeze then. 

%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%

 

School was, to say the least, uncomfortable. Now that he knew where to look, Dean was everywhere. He felt those green eyes boring into his back during class and was acutely aware of the fact that when he turned to look at Dean, the other boy moved his gaze elsewhere, his jaw clenched and fingers curled into a fist on his desk. Other times, when Dean caught Castiel staring, he would turn and blatantly flirt with any girl in range.

At first it was upsetting, watching Dean ignore him in such an obvious manner, showing Castiel how much he didn't want to talk to him; how much he didn't want him. Then, it was frustrating. Dean was acting childish, he was embarrassed or angry about the kiss so he went out of his way alienate Castiel from him. Giving him the cold shoulder. 

Now though, it was maddening. How dare he treat Castiel like this? He had done nothing wrong, had just misread all of the mixed signals being tossed his way. The flirtatious teasing, taking him out for Slurpees (a poor excuse for a date, but still) and then the hunger that had radiated from those emerald eyes. He fought the urge to stand up and scream at him. Or flip a desk, that would certainly get his attention.

At lunch he sat with his usual group, save Becky, who was on vacation in New York with her parents and Chuck, who had 'something else going on'. Balthazar had invited Anna to eat with them and they two were bickering about what video game they should buy Gabriel for his birthday. Meg and Castiel ate in relative silence, occasionally smiling at each other or commenting on how dumb Ruby looked that way. Well, the latter was mostly Meg. 

Lunch wasn't so bad until Dean walked into the cafeteria. Meg immediately notice Castiel tense up and sent a horrible glare Dean's way. Castiel was sure the taller boy saw her because he whispered something to the redhead he was walking with. Castiel knew the redhead from his Tech class. Charlie Bradbury. “I'm suddenly not hungry,” Castiel muttered dryly. He regarded his unfinished sandwich with disgust and stood up to throw it away. Meg got up too and stayed with him until they had to part ways for their next classes.

%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%

 

Dean strolled into History with Lisa Braeden hanging off his arm. She was laughing at something he said and running one of her hands over his chest possessively. Castiel glared at them and tried not to throw up. Dean was acting like a five year old who forgot his lunch treat at home and Castiel had a building need to give him a black eye to teach him a lesson. Unfortunately the teacher walked in at that moment, saving Dean from Cas's not-so-terrible wrath.

He spent all of class thinking up ways to get back at Dean. Castiel liked Meg and had no doubt in his mind that if he were to ask, she would eagerly pretend to be his girlfriend to get revenge – especially if it was Castiel's idea. She seemed intent on corrupting him so why not fight Dean's fire with his own?

%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%

 

“You want me to what?” Meg's southern drawl lilted her words into a deceptive rendition of one of those pretty Southern Belles.  
“Pretend to be my girlfriend,” Castiel repeated. Meg raised one of her perfectly manicured eyebrows and pursed her lips at the request. He'd caught her after practice so she was still in her sweaty uniform. He made sure to keep his feet away from the sharp metal spikes of her rugby cleats.   
“Why? Tell me again,” her voice was doubtful, although Castiel thought she was already in.  
“Dean and I kissed last night and he flipped his shit. Now he's treating me like a leper and going out of his way to flirt with like, every girl in school.” She tapped a finger to her chin in mock contemplation.   
“Did he want to be kissed?” She asked.   
“Well he was giving me the sexy eyes so I think so,” he sighed dramatically, “Are you in?”   
“Hell yes I'm in. We start tomorrow.” 

This was going to be awesome.

%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%

 

When Meg said they were going to start tomorrow, he had now idea she meant eight o'clock in the morning tomorrow. She made her way over to him, smiling in that wolfish way of hers after locking up her bike and twined her arm through his. She batted her eyelashes at him dramatically,  
“Well good mornin' daddy-o,” she lilted, over accentuating that Alabama drawl. Castiel snorted and squeezed her hand as a thank you. Meg winked and kissed him on the cheek before stalking off to wherever it was bombshells like her go when they get to school in the morning. 

He caught Dean's eye as he and Sam climbed out of the Impala and scowled. He wanted Dean to feel how much he disliked him and he sure as hell wasn't going to sugar-coat it. Cas went inside, holding the door for Gabriel, who had driven him to school.   
“Who was that lovely lady, Cassie?” He asked with a teasing smile. Castiel frowned and shook his head before hurrying towards his locker.

That day was fun. Meg shared a few classes with him so she made an effort to sit with him until the teacher came in, flirting with him subtly and then winking as she walked away. Meg was almost oo good at this. She wasn't at all obvious as far as Cas could tell and her personality hadn't changed a single bit. He felt Dean's glare on him throughout the entire class and didn't look at him once. 

It was even more fun when he got the rest of his group (and Anna) involved. They acted like Meg and Cas had just come out as a couple and some offered congrats, while Becky... not so much. After they'd finished eating Meg took Castiel over to the bleachers and pulled halfway up. She peered around the corner before grinning and telling Castiel to hurry up and sit down. He bit off a shriek of surprise when she straddled his lap before stringing her arms around his neck and pulling him in for a kiss. Castiel was unyielding and clumsy until she broke off and leaned towards his ear.  
“Make him believe it Cassie. Make him wish it were him.” He dove in, placing his hands on her hips and letting his fingers slip under the hem of her sweater and hers twined in his crazy bedhead. 

She pulled at his lower lip with her teeth, not even stopping when they could hear Dean's voice approaching. Castiel tentatively slid his hands up farther under Meg's sweater and pulled her tight against him. Their tongues twined and the fingers in his hair tightened as Dean's voice came to an abrupt stop as well as the sounds of his footsteps. Castiel opened one eye to look at him.

Dean was frozen to the pavement, his eyes a forest green fire and his fists clenched. He looked about ready to stomp up the bleachers and tear Meg off of him. Charlie was with him and she whistled long and low, causing Meg to jerk away in surprise. Castiel had to hand it to her, for a rugby player, the chick was an amazing actress. She and Cas stared at Dean angrily before Meg kissed Castiel chastely on the lips. “Class is in five minutes,” she said, rubbing a thumb over the back of his hand and kissing him once more before trotting down the steps and over to the school. 

Dean said something to Charlie that made her nod and walk back inside. Those emerald eyes followed him as Castiel clambered back down to earth and started towards the school. Dean stepped in to block his path.   
“Hello Castiel,” he purred. How dare he. Fucking bastard fucker of fuck. Fuck.   
“Dean.” He acknowledged, somehow keeping his voice from sounding strained as he tried to slip past him.   
“Cas, we need to talk.” Oh hell to the no. He did not just pull that shit, no fucking way.  
“I don't think we do, Dean.” Dean's jaw clenched angrily.  
“Why not?”  
“Because I don't want to talk to you.” He stated simply. Plain as fuck, Dean. Maybe if he wasn't such a dick bag.   
“Why-”  
“Because you're an assbutt, that's why!” Dean looked like he was halfway between yelling and laughing.  
“A what?”   
“You heard me. You're an assbutt. We kissed and fucking... I don't even know what _that_ was, but then you have the nerve to ignore me at school and flirt with anything with boobs?! Hell then you and Lisa were practically dry humping on the desks in History. That's completely fine. But Jesus Christ! Cas gets a girlfriend and bam! You get to go all gang banger and corner me at school,”  
“Castiel,”   
“No! Stay the fuck away from me Dean,” the older by was stepping closer every time Cas took a step back. His heart went spastic when he sensed the school wall getting closer to his back.  
“Cas-”  
“Dean, just fuck off already!” He screamed.   
“Dude, I just want to talk to you,” Castiel felt his world darken. This couldn't happen, oh holy Christ on a cracker not again. 

His heart stopped and started irregularly and his lungs suddenly felt like they were on a vacation half a globe away. He called out and heard footsteps, but had no idea what was happening. The world was turning red and he braced himself for the first blows. He dropped to the ground and curled around his cast protectively, whimpering quietly.

Meg and Balthazar came crashing out of the school to find Castiel cowering against the wall and Dean wide eyed and backing away. “I d-don't, I dunno what happened. I was just trying to talk to him and he kept yelling and-” Meg's hand darted out and whipped him across the face with a loud smack.  
“What the fuck is wrong with you, Winchester?” She demanded, grabbing at the collar of his shirt and shaking him. Holy shit the chick was strong. Balthazar was kneeling next to Cas and talking to him quietly. “Don't you fucking remember what happened the last time somebody cornered him back here? There probably- look,” she pointed at a rusty spot on the pavement, “Look, that's his blood dammit!” Oh shit. Fuck, fuck. Fuck. He didn't even think. Now Castiel probably fucking hated him.  
Shit.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Holy fucking fuck. I had it outlined and I swear there just gonna be a hot Destiel makeout session and then I'm like "Oh hey let's just fucking traumatize Cas" and then it happened. 
> 
> Thanks for the comments and the kudos!
> 
> I think this story is going to be long my friends.
> 
> Eh, I have my horseback riding lesson tomorrow at ten in the morning and we're doing cross country jumping and my dumb horse, Willy is a freaking spazzy Thoroughbred so I'll die. Seriously, at a show he threw me off twice at the same jump because there was fake grass on one of the poles. Luckily he went over it during the judged round :) 
> 
> WELL. We'll see where Chapter Three takes us either Saturday or Sunday. Tomorrow I'm doing chores at the barn, then the lesson, then actually working at the barn, then more chores and then I'm going to go look at a horse that I might buy. I like horses in case you couldn't tell. *eyeroll* That spazzy horse chick you gallops around the halls at school? Yeah, that's me. 
> 
> OMG these notes are so long but I went to Hot Topic and the guy working there was freaking hot and he had tattoos and *melts into a puddle* I was looking at the Supernatural pins and he was flirting with me (kinda) and he asked if I was ready to check out and my friend was like "Dude look Breathe Carolina" and he laughed and said "Guess not."  
> But guys. Dudes who work at HT would be perf boyfriends because they work around fangirls.


	3. Bathroom Doors are Banging

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> And so are Dean and Cas...

Castiel knew Dean hadn't meant to threaten him, but part of him – mostly because of Meg – wondered if that was true. Other than flaunting his 'relationship' with the rugby captain he wasn't aware that he had done anything to provoke an attack that Meg was proposing had happened. 

It had been a little over a week since the alleged attack that Castiel couldn't remember. As far as he was concerned it was the location and the way Dean had been standing that triggered some sort of strange post-traumatic-stress-disorder and he'd turned into an armadillo. He hadn't told Meg, but he hadn't seen Dean cornering him behind the school. It had been Azazel instead. 

His recovery from the event had been miraculously fast and he'd been relatively back to normal by the next day. He made point to prevent being with Dean alone in a room, just because he wasn't quite ready to talk, and frankly he didn't think Dean was either.

He and Meg kept up with their fake relationship, mostly because Castiel and Dean had hardly any chance of getting back together at the moment. Meg didn't know this, but Castiel had the intention of talking to Dean today. He was going to apologize – what for, he didn't know yet, and then he would explain to Dean his side of what had happened.

He caught him after school.

“Dean!” Castiel called loudly. There was no way that he couldn't hear him, they were the only two still left in the hallway, so why wasn't he turning around? Oh god, was Dean ignoring him? Shit. Shit, fuck, shit fucking fuck. Stupid hallucinations, dammit. “Dean?” Fuck, his voice sounded nervous. Cas jogged up behind the other boy and touched his shoulder, making Dean start and whirl around. He had ear buds in. Well thank shit that he wasn't being ignored. Yet.

Dean paused his music and pulled his ear buds out slowly.   
“Cas?” He asked incredulously, as if he couldn't believe that the smaller boy was real. Stupid fucker, I've been standing in front of you for long enough.   
“Who else? Unless you've been avoiding a different person because of a Meg-caused misunderstanding?” Fuck. He hadn't meant to say it like that. He'd wanted to sit down and talk about it. Dean looked around in confusion.   
“What?” The gritty sound of fast-approaching wheels made Castiel turn around abruptly. Sam was riding a long board down the hall, expression intent on her phone. She tapped away at the screen with a frown, and then a small smile when it dinged. She looked up for a moment and her soft brown gaze caught on her brother and Castiel.  
“Dean, I'll meet you at home.” They watched her continue down the hall and out the door without hesitation.   
%%%

“I'm not sure what happened exactly,” Castiel said quietly. He and Dean were leaning against the side of his car, a sleek black '67 Chevrolet Impala, in the student parking lot. “I know it wasn't your fault Dean. I think the location triggered something in my brain... As soon as you took a step forward...” He trailed off brokenly. He didn't want Dean to think he was crazy. He didn't want him to tell Naomi that Cas needed to be in an asylum. That's where they put crazy people right? The ones that see things that aren't there?

His dark gaze was soft, an unusual expression to find, worn by Dean Winchester. He almost looked understanding with those warm green eyes and sad smile, like he knew how Castiel felt. But he couldn't, because how could Dean know what it was like to be bullied? Who would bully Dean Winchester?   
“Cas, you... You can tell me, okay? I won't get mad.” I know that, his brain screamed, You'll feel bad for me. Maybe telling Dean wasn't such a good idea after all. He didn't want pity, he just wanted.. Fuck, he didn't know what he wanted.  
“Cas?” Oh, what the hell.   
“As soon as you took a step forward, it wasn't you.” He muttered. There, it was out. “It was Azazel, he was all I could see.” Dean opened his mouth to say something, but nothing came out. He fucking called it, Dean thought that Catiel was crazy and he'll be ditched or something. Shit, what kind of rumours would he spread? Instead, Dean's eyes were shining sadly.   
“Cas,” he finally managed, “Cas, I'm so sorry,” 

Dean moved towards him slowly, giving Castiel a chance to pull away if he wanted to. He cupped Castiel's jaw with surprising care and kissed him, long and slow and soft. What? No actually, what the fuck? Cas turned so that Dean was pressing him into the side of car and entwined his fingers in the short spikes of Dean's hair. He'd been waiting for this, this was how their first kiss should have gone, all soft and sweet and caring. And god, he sounded gay. 

Well shit, he was kissing a guy – how much more gay could he get? Fucking a guy.

He groaned quietly and pressed into Dean's lips eagerly, deepening the kiss. Dean huffed and moved his hands down to hook his fingers in the loops of Castiel's jeans, pulling their hips closer and pushing him back into the car door. With a satisfied noise, he licked into the shorter boy's mouth with languid strokes of his tongue, tilting his head for a better angle. “I'm sorry,” he murmured, “I'm so sorry,” he kept whispering between kisses. “I didn't know, Cas. I'm sorry.”  
“Why?” Castiel replied when they finally came up for air. He ran his fingertips over the lapels of Dean's worn leather jacket. He loved Dean's jacket. His wandering fingers moved up and over Dean's chest, hooking in the waxed cord of his amulet. He'd have to remember to ask him where he'd gotten it. “Dean, why are you sorry?”   
“I didn't know you didn't see me. I thought you hated me,” he admitted sadly, not meeting Cas's eyes. “I just ditched you, man. I thought you hated me.” Castiel suddenly felt the red heat of anger swell in his chest. It wasn't Dean's fault, he hadn't known. And Castiel sure as heel did not hate Dean Winchester.

He grabbed fistfuls of Dean's jacket and spun around to slam the bigger boy's back into the side of the car. He kissed him fiercely, all teeth and tongue and scraping stubble. He felt Dean's arms pull him tighter against his chest and Castiel moaned, pulling away to look into the haven of Dean's eyes.   
“It wasn't your fault,” he growled, “I should have said something sooner.”  
“Shut up,” came the gruff response, “Just shut up and kiss me already,”

Castiel admitted he may have let his hands wander up and under Dean's shirt, he could agree that he and Dean had spent far too much time making out against the side of the Impala in the school parking lot. Yeah, he recognized that school security had had to ask them to leave, and he honestly didn't give a fuck. He was more so focused on the fact that he had made out with Dean Winchester for three hours in the school parking lot after having a discussion about bullying.

Dean did come over for dinner that night. Castiel's mom had called while Dean had been driving him home and said that she would be working the graveyard shift that night and that she should be home early the next morning. 

“Feel like pizza?” Castiel asked absently while he rooted around in the fridge. “There is literally nothing we can make that takes less than fifteen minutes. Except maybe pickles? Do you want pickles?” He pulled his head out of the fridge and straightened up. When he turned around, eyebrow lifted inquisitively, Dean started out of a daze.  
“What?”  
“I asked you a question,” he replied, amused.  
“Sorry I was busy staring at your ass.” Castiel's dick twitched at that, and he had a feeling Dean knew it. Cocky son of a bitch. Castiel rolled his eyes, fighting back a blush and repeated the question, grinning when Dean eagerly agreed. 

Castiel phoned the local pizza place and placed their order before they moved into the living room.  
“Those jeans are amazing. Wear them everyday.” Dean ordered as they sat down on the coach, very obviously staring at Castiel's ass and crotch. Damn if that didn't get him all hot and bothered.  
“I can't wear them every day,” he said with a laugh, “They'll need to be washed eventually.” Dean's grin turned wolfish as he prowled closer, pushing Castiel down to lay on his back against the cushions. Dean nibbled Cas's ear as he moved to hover over him.  
“On those days you don't wear pants at all,” said Dean, pressing a kiss to the curve of Castiel's neck. “And then we can make out.” The smaller boy giggled breathlessly and set his hands on Dean's waist.   
“Dean,” he gasped, scandalized, “We can't just make out on the couch-”  
“Fine. I'll bang you too if you want,” nimble fingers were suddenly brushing against the inside of Castiel's thigh, making him moan softly, lifting his hips to grind against that insistent touch.  
“The pizza man will be here soon,” he argued pathetically, gulping for air as Dean changed his rhythm, stroking and pinching higher with each kiss. He could feel that swoon-worthy smirk against his throat.  
“Good, he can bang with us too.” Came the heated reply. Castiel hissed when Dean's hand travelled higher to the zipper of his jeans.  
“Dean!” He groaned, just as the doorbell rang loudly, signalling the arrival of their dinner. Dean leaned back and waggled his eyebrows as his companion jumped up to answer the door, earning him a small outraged squeak and a half-hearted slap on the arm from Cas. 

It turns out it was a pizza girl. She probably would have even been open to a threesome, judging by how far her shirt was unbuttoned. When Castiel returned from the kitchen with drinks, Dean was hysterical. He held up a napkin labelled with the girl's phone number and a winky face.   
“Call me, Hot Stuff! Love, Kendra.” Dean read with a snort. “Dude, it's a good thing we're gay because if I were a girl, I'd be so jealous right now.” Cas grinned at the thought of a female Dean.   
“What if there were both?” He asked mischievously. Dean frowned in confusion.  
“A girl me and a guy me?” He chuckled darkly. “Well, that would be a fun night for you, my friend.” 

%%%%%%%

Later that night, Castiel realized something. They were sitting on the couch watching Hannibal on Netflix. He was curled up against Dean's side with his head on his companion's spectacularly toned chest with Dean's arm keeping him close.  
“I'm gonna have to tell Meg,” he said, looking up for Dean's reaction. The other boy's eyes darkened and his grip tightened. He looked down at Castiel before quickly pulling him into a rough kiss. He was clumsily pulled up to straddle Dean's lap and was submitted to a series of possessive and heated kisses.   
“I know you guys were faking it,” Dean growled into his collarbone as his nipped at the skin there, “But I hated seeing you with her, and that day when you guys were on the bleachers-” The day of the incident. “I almost ran up there and ripped her offa you.” His nose nuzzled under Cas's jaw, “But now, now you're mine.” 

Castiel gasped when calloused hands pushed up under his shirt, exploring the flat planes of his torso. Dean rubbed his thumbs over Cas's nipples teasingly, tilting his head to press their mouths together once more. Castiel opened his mouth, inviting Dean to lick into him. Those terrible thumbs grazed over his nipples again, and Dean swallowed Cas's moan, hips bucking up instinctively.   
“Dean,” he hissed, gripping the other boy's shoulders like his life depended on it. He leaned over to nip at Dean's neck desperately, sucking a purple bruise into the curve that connected his neck to his shoulder. Those beautiful hips lifted again, rubbing at the bulge in his jeans provocatively. “Dean, stop.” He managed, head tilting back in ecstasy as Dean nibbled at his neck.  
“Are you sure?” He breathed into Castiel's skin, a wry smile creeping in. They both knew that neither of them wanted to stop, and so they continued.

***

When they met at school the next morning, Dean's friend Charlie located them immediately and bounced over to squeeze between them.   
“So did you guys do the dirty?” She asked nonchalantly. Dean flashed his teeth, rolling his eyes.   
“No, Charlie.”  
“Just a super hot make out session on my couch,” Cas clarified, to Dean's surprise.   
“Dudes. You guys should make a porno, I mean you two are both smokin' and gay porn is making it's debut on Tumblr.” Dean frowned.  
“What's Tumblr?” Cas rolled his eyes and shared an exasperated groan with the redhead.   
“We aren't making a porno,” he replied sternly. “Maybe a PWP or a video rendition of explicit Sterek fanfic,” 

“You read those?” Charlie exclaimed happily, “You're cool.” She kissed both boys on the cheek before darting away to class. 

Dean acknowledged Cas with an amused expression.   
“You read fan fiction?” The boy grinned.  
“All the nerds do it,” he replied with a grin. They headed inside, Dean teasing all the while. 

This was easy. Castiel had always thought that a relationship would be difficult, hence the reason why he rarely engaged in such frivolous activities. Until he'd met Dean, Castiel had always thought having a boyfriend in high school was a waste of time since they would just split up and go separate ways for college. Castiel was fairly certain that he either wanted to be a nurse or a photographer – two very different academic pursuits.

Dean stopped to let Castiel get his books from his locker. The other boy had taken his binders home to study for a test so he had them in his bag. Cas shoved his backpack in his locker and pulled out his Math binder and pencil case before slamming the door and locking it. He'd have to remember to take his camera out later to charge it.

Shit. He had Photography Club today at lunch and Becky had asked him to help her pick pictures for the yearbook after school. He didn't see why she was doing that now, in March. There were still several events that they needed to cover. He sighed. Cas would have to make sure that she left some pages open for those events. Gabriel would also want a page for the Art competition. 

“Hey Dean?” He asked, suddenly realizing that they were walking in the same direction. The blonde made a small noise of confirmation, eyes focused on his phone. Cas steered his companion around other students as they made their way through the halls. “You have art first period right?”   
“Yeah. I sat at your table for the first month or so,” Oh. 

Did he honestly not notice that? That was a little bit concerning. Then again, he tended to be a little out of it during Art class. Gabe tended to let his first period students slack off because they 'needed to wake up' before they could be expected to do much. Castiel found that Gabriel was more of a chaperone than a teacher. He always gave them a lesson on Mondays and Wednesdays, but otherwise let them have free time with their sketchbooks. Gabriel's classroom was usually empty until two minutes before the bell rang, but he left his door open for Castiel. 

They slipped inside and each said a quick hello to Gabe, who was writing something on the blackboard, before sitting down at the same table.  
“Hiya Cassie,” said the older man, punching his brother in the arm. Dean raised his eyebrows in confusion.   
“Oh, Dean. I guess you didn't know, Gabriel – er, Mr. Novak is my older brother.” Gabe grinned.   
“So you're the mysterious girlfriend,” he exclaimed happily, “At least I know I'll like you.” He winked before moving to the back of the room. “Hey Cassie! Look, I got a Keurig.” Castiel rolled his eyes. Gabriel was a notorious hot chocolate freak. He often kept a box of the instant stuff in his desk and a kettle plugged in by the sink. Occasionally he'd offer a cup to his little brother in the mornings, but most often he would just hoard it all for himself.

“If you two put a box of clay and some sculpting tools at each table, I'll make you a cup of hot chocolate,” he offered lightly. Cas narrowed his eyes before Dean could agree. He let his voice drop dangerously,  
“Are there marshmallows and Oreos included?” The man frowned,  
“Oreos for breakfast? I like your style, kid. Alright, sure.” Cas brightened considerably and walked to over to the cupboard by the door. He pulled out a large carton of clay and handed it to Dean who opened it up and handed out the smaller boxes that were inside while Castiel set out all the tools. 

The boys sat on the couch at the back of the room and drank their hot chocolate.   
“What are you going to make?” Dean asked him curiously. “I was thinking of making a model of the Impala. Or a clown mask to hang in Sammy's room, that would scare the shit out of her.” He chuckled darkly. Castiel pretended to think for a moment.  
“Well I was planning on making a full size sculpture of you out of all the empty lube bottles we have lying around-” Dean choked on his hot chocolate and spat it all over the floor. Gabriel frowned at him from his desk where he was going over his lesson.  
“You're cleaning that up,” he warned. Dean glared at Castiel while he grabbed some paper towels and knelt to clean up the mess. 

Cas smirked and leaned back into the couch nonchalantly,  
“On your knees where you belong,” he murmured. Dean looked up at him in shocked silence. He opened his mouth, as if to say something, but nothing came out. His eyes darkened with lust an his tongue darted out to wet his lips. Castiel winked and spread his legs a little bit, eyes darting over to where his brother was working. 

Gabriel either hadn't noticed or didn't care because he was still focused on writing notes and planning tomorrow's lesson. Dean let his gaze wander over Castiel's body before swallowing and ducking his head to resume his clean up. He stood up and threw away the towels, sitting back down beside Castiel. He leaned in closer, breath blowing hot on his boyfriend's throat.  
“Bet you'd like that, hm? You want my mouth on your cock, sucking you down while you writhe underneath me? All hot and sweaty and ready to come because I made you that way,” Castiel could feel the blush creeping up his neck. His dick gave an interested twitch, heat pooling as Dean continued. Fuck. 

“Mm, I think I'd make you wait, just for that smug little comment. Take you right to edge and then leave you there until you come back down.” His voice was rough and hot in Cas's ear. The smaller boy stifled a groan.  
“Fuck you, Dean.” He hissed, willing his dick to calm itself. Stupid Winchester making him hard at school. Dean grinned,  
“Yeah, that's the idea.” He pressed a searing kiss under Cas's chin, “Baby, I'd make you come so hard.” 

Gabriel cleared his throat, both boys startling apart and staring at them knowingly.   
“Can you two calm your hormones for, like, an hour? Class starts in twenty minutes, go somewhere else.” They stood up and Castiel swore he heard Gabriel mutter something about Cas needing a blow job. 

“Gabriel has the right idea,” he said mischievously, pulling his boyfriend into the washroom. He checked under all the stalls quickly, satisfied when they were empty, and locked the door. He backed Castiel into the wall by the sink and with a wolfish grin, dropped to his knees.

Holy shit. Dean was going to fucking blow him in the school bathroom. There were suddenly curious fingers exploring the inside of his thigh and up to unzip his fly. Castiel gasped as Dean pulled his jeans and boxers down to let the boy's erection spring free. 

Dean glanced up at him once before latching onto Castiel's length and bobbing his head to lick at the throbbing head. He swirled his tongue around the end, the tip dabbing at his slit before dipping his head and swallowing him down. Deep. He took a long pull, hollowing out his cheeks and tonguing the thick vein running the length of Cas's cock.

Dean had never given a blow job before, although he had often been on the receiving end of one from both girls and guys so he had picked up a few tricks. For example if he pressed right at spot behind Castiel's balls like that... A loud groan ripped from Cas's throat and he bit down on his lis lip quickly, eyes screwing shut.

Dean made a happy noise in the back of his throat, the vibrations travelling from the head of Cas's cock and up his spine.   
“Dean,” he whimpered as the boy continued sucking and licking and pulling, his hands preventing Cas from bucking up and choking him with that big, thick cock. Dean lapped at the pre come leaking from the slit before sinking down and taking Castiel to the base, head bobbing rapidly. “Dean,” Castiel squealed pleading, hands making their way into the soft, short blonde spikes of Dean's hair and pulling, trying to get him off before he came. Instead, Dean sped up, thumb of one hand probing that the spot behind his sac and the other hand making up for what his mouth couldn't do. His stomach tightened up abruptly and he groaned like a fifty cent whore. “Dean, I'm gonna – Oh fuck! Fuck, Dean! Oh fuck,” he whimpered, coming hot and thick into Dean's mouth, another wave of his orgasm crippling him when the other boy swallowed it as quickly as it came. “Fuck, I'm coming, I'm coming, I'm coming,” he cried, fingers flexing in Dean's hair.

Dean pulled off with a grin and, fuck, his magnificent tongue darted out to lick up a drop of cum on his lower lip before tucking Castiel back into his boxers and buttoning him back in, rising as he zipped up Cas's fly. The shorter boy, eyes drooping lazily, pulled him in and kissed him frantically.  
“Thank you,” he murmured. Best (and only) blow job ever. Dean flashed him a smile and drew back.  
“My pleasure,” he purred.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Goodness gracious. Castiel has a dirty little mouth (and now, so does Dean). This one took me a long time to write and I have a feeling that I will be going back and tweaking some stuff, but it's been awhile so here you go ;) This one was shorter, only 7 pages as opposed to 15 so... Sorry. I have Ch. 4 outlined so I'll be working on that while you all re-read the blowjob scene because you're kinky little shits ;) Thanks for all the comments and kudos - I love you guys and I'm surprised you actually read my shit.  
> \---
> 
> Please critique me - I wanna know how to improve!


	4. The Sixth Week

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> HOLY FUCK.
> 
> I apologize for taking like, eighty million years for this chapter (I write as I post). I may have mentioned before that I am an avid equestrian? Well I'm currently looking to buy a horse so I had two on trial this past week as well as the horse that I'm currently leasing (i.e. three horses to ride). I also work at the barn all day on Tuesdays and I have competitions on Sundays. Saturdays are prep days so I spend three hours braiding my horse's mane and then another two hours cleaning tack and loading the trailer.
> 
> Anyways, as a peace offering there is smut at the end of this chapter.

“Castiel!” Naomi called. He thundered down the stairs quickly, sliding clumsily into the kitchen and catching himself on the corner of the counter before he crashed into her. His mother was flipping through a stack of mail, eyes barely moving away from the bills and letters. “I found a babysitting job for you,” she put the mail down and leaned against the fridge. “My friend Gloria has a four year old boy. His name is Alfie – you might remember him. She brought him over one time -”  
“Yeah mom, I remember.” Castiel liked kids, as long as they weren't his own. Babysitting raked in a lot of dough and Gloria tended to over pay and then some. “When does she want me?” Naomi smiled tightly.  
“This evening. Actually she wants you there in fifteen minutes She said you should be done by nine.” He glanced at the clock. It was five fifteen.  
“Eh. Why not?” 

%%%%

“Hey Dean?” Sam was standing at the window, peeking through the curtains.   
“What?” He snapped, pushing his homework aside and stalking up to stand beside his sister. “What?!” She tapped a black painted fingernail on the window, pointing across the street at Gloria's house. He squinted and saw Alfie sitting on his mini firetruck, pushing it along with his tiny feet. There was another person there, a guy with an amazing ass, who was wearing one of those plastic fireman hats and watering the flowers. “Crushing on Gloria's new babysitter?” He teased. Samantha rolled her eyes and pulled one of her bitch faces.  
“Ew. Why would I crush on your gay boyfriend?” Dean frowned and turned back to look out the window. Sure enough, Castiel was facing them now, saying something to Alfie. The little kid squealed and ditched his truck on the sidewalk to start watering the garden. 

Cas looked up and his eyes caught on Dean. He narrowed his eyes a little bit and then grinned brightly before waving. Dean drew away from the window and went to step out on the front porch, slipping on a pair of Sam's flip flops. For a fourteen year old, the kid had seriously massive feet. He jogged over across the street to talk to Cas.

Gloria was a fairly laid back woman, Dean had watched Alfie for her a couple times and she had practically forced him to have a friend over so he doubted that hanging out with Cas would be an issue. Alfie saw Dean and waved awkwardly, not quite sure if he should, and the man waved back with a grin. Cas smiled fondly at his boyfriend.

He had caught himself leaning forward to kiss Dean, but decided not to because he was babysitting a four year old who was bound to ask questions.

“Nice hat,” Dean teased, eyes running up and down Castiel's lanky body, “Firemen must get really hot,” Castiel lifted and eyebrow in Alfie's direction. The little boy grinned,  
“Yeah, their gear is super heavy because it's got lead or something in it to keep it from catching on fire,” he replied.  
“Maybe they shouldn't wear so much clothing,” Dean continued, watching his boyfriend hungrily. Alfie giggled,  
“They wear it to protect them, silly!” Dean's flashed with mirth,  
“Oh. Cas I think you need to get some protection,”  
“Dean!”   
“Yeah, Castiel. You need a shield... from this!” Alfie turned around with the hose and sprayed his babysitter with a gleeful laugh. Dean cackled when Castiel shied away from the water with an expression similar to that of a wet cat. Water was dripping from that adorable red plastic fireman's hat and his blue eyes were blazing. He smiled at Alfie and chased him around a bit on the lawn. Gloria picked that moment to pull up in the driveway. 

“Mommy!” Alfie squealed, running over to meet his mother as she slipped out of her Mini.   
“Hey baby,” she greeted, pulling him in for a hug and kissing him on the cheek. When she let him go, Alfie ran straight for his truck and resumed making engine noises and pushing himself down the sidewalk. “Hello Castiel,”  
“Hi Gloria,” he responded cheerfully, flashing a small smile. “Dean came over a few minutes ago, I hope you don't mind.” The small woman laughed heartily and slugged his companion on the bicep.  
“Dean knows he's welcome any time!” Dean chuckled quietly. “Tell you what, Castiel. I'm home an hour early, so I'll pay you for the whole time and give you dinner if you don't mind watching Alfie while I make it. Dean you can stay too.”  
“Sure, why not?”

%%%%

Later, the boys sat on the curb in front of Castiel's house, each drinking a Cherry Crush Slurpee. They sat in a comfortable silence, tucking up their legs whenever a car drove by and then stretching them back out as soon as it had moved on. Dean cleared his throat loudly, mixing his Slurpee with a green straw, and smiled softly.

“We've been together for six weeks,” he mentioned quietly. What a fast six weeks it had been. From sloppy bathroom blowjobs to heated makeout sessions on Castiel's couch, their relationship had certainly progressed. It was the middle of May and they were only about a month away from graduation. Castiel had decided that he wanted to be a photographer and Dean had said that he wanted to start up his own garage instead of take over his father's. Both wanted to go to college, and hopefully share an apartment wherever they could find a school that offered courses for both careers. 

It turns out that many colleges did, although both boys wanted to go somewhere new. Castiel had even mentioned a road trip before they go to college. Riverside City College ended up being a road trip to get there and located somewhere new and relatively different than Lawrence. After about a week of debate, Cas and Dean had decided;

They were moving to Riverside, California. 

“Yes,” he answered warily, unsure of where Dean was taking this topic. After all that had happened regarding their move, a small scuffle with Meg and a few shouting matches with his mother about being so far away, he'd forgotten all about their one month anniversary – something he'd thought wouldn't bother Dean all that much. He'd learned quickly that Dean wasn't at all interested in 'chick flick moments' as he liked to call them. Naturally, Castiel had counted a one month anniversary as a chick flick moment. “What about it?” This better not be a breakup.   
“Well, uh, you know I don't like dwelling on the mushy stuff...”  
“Yes?” Dean frowned and ducked his head in embarrassment,  
“Well, I dunno.. I was just thinking... Bobby paid me for helping him out at the garage this week, since my dad wasn't feeling well, and I just thought that maybe, because we didn't do anything for our one month anniversary-”  
“Did you want to do something?” Castiel asked suddenly, tilting his head in that way that could make Dean's heart melt, his expression both confused and concerned.  
“What?”  
“Did you want to do something for our one-month? I would have but I thought that you wouldn't want to because it was too girly,”   
“Would you at least let me finish?” The older boy replied, exasperated. So he had wanted to celebrate. “I was gonna ask if you wanted to do something tonight, maybe go see a movie or something. But if you think it's too girly-” Castiel darted forward and cut him off with a sharp peck on the lips.  
“Yes. I'd love to go on a date with you.” Dean grinned against his boyfriend's insistent mouth and kissed him back, pulling him up to stand on the grass.   
“Come on then, I'll drive.”  
%%%%

They ended up picking an action movie because they were men, dammit, no matter how gay. Surprisingly, there were only a few other people there, since the movie had been running for almost a week. Dean decided that making out with Castiel at the back of the house was more important than the actual movie, much to the younger boy's amusement. 

“Dean,” he hissed, as the boy slipped his tongue inside Castiel's mouth and pulled his attention away from Channing Tatum's wonderfully toned abs and towards his boyfriend's. Dean tried to pull him closer, resulting in him knocking his elbow on the armrest. Cas giggled and kissed it better before returning his gaze to the screen. Dean crossed his arms and pouted, glaring at Channing Tatum and his stupid hotness. Why the hell did they pick this one anyways? They were showing re-runs of The Notebook next door. Although that one had Ryan Gosling in it. Castiel smiled at one of the jokes, tossing some popcorn in his mouth and completely missing. He frowned and picked up the kernels off his chest before eating them more carefully, blushing at his mistake and visibly avoiding eye contact with Dean. God dammit, why did he have to be so adorable with his dumb 3D glasses and crappy popcorn eating skills? 

He leaned towards him and kissed the curve of Cas's neck, making a heated trail up behind his ear and then nibbling at his earlobe. Castiel continued to ignore him, laughing at another joke and stuffing some more popcorn in his mouth. Dean growled angrily and moved over to kiss his temple and the jut of his cheekbones. He felt the muscles in the smaller boy's jaw working to chew the popcorn as he nipped at his cheek and jaw. He let his hand wander over Cas's chest, tickling his collarbone and tweaking his nipples. 

Castiel sucked in a sharp breath and turned to look at Dean angrily, but that mischievous green gaze made his expression soften. “I am trying to watch the movie,” he warned, giving Dean a light kiss before turning back to Channing. Dean narrowed his eyes and mouthed at Cas's neck, his hand travelling lower down his boyfriend's body. He reached the waistband of those magnificent jeans before slipping his fingertips inside. “Dean,” he heard Castiel gasp as his hand continued to work it's way into Cas's pants. Dean wasn't surprised when he found Cas hard inside his boxers.

“Stop,” his partner finally managed, turning to look at him with that heated blue stare.   
“What'sa matter, Chief? Is it getting too hot?” Fingers stroked over Castiel's hardened length. He froze and narrowed his eyes at Dean.  
“Did you just-? Did you just make a fireman innuendo?” He breathed. Dean smirked wickedly,  
“I'll go down on you like a fire pole,” he whispered, fighting back laughter and wrapping his hand more tightly around Castiel's dick. Cas made a small wheezing noise,  
“You can't be serious,”  
“I'll ride you like fire truck,” Castiel rolled his eyes, biting back a moan while Dean continued to stroke him.  
“These are just getting terrible,”  
“Baby, let me light your fire,” Dean purred, smiling at the hilarity of his terrible jokes.  
“Firemen are supposed to put out the fire,” he choked, eyes rolling back in his head as Dean increased the pace of his hand. Dean smiled, kissing him fiercely.  
“That's why you're the fireman.”   
%%%%

“Hey baby, how was the movie?” Naomi asked. Castiel's mom had phoned almost as soon as they'd gotten out of the theatre.  
“It was pretty.. intense.” He cast a sideways glance at Dean, who was smiling nonchalantly beside him.  
“Cool. Hey, listen, I just forgot that I have a conference in New York this weekend so I'll be gone for about four days. You can have a friend over if you'd like, but remember that you need to vacuum and clean your room,” Castiel blushed. Jesus Christ, how old was he? Five?  
“Yeah, mom. That's fine.”  
“Okay, I have to catch my flight so I'll see you when I get home on Tuesday. Love you,”  
“Love you too. Bye.” He hung up with a smile.  
“Feel like hanging out at my place for four days?” He asked with a sly grin. Dean turned to stare at him shock. They walked towards the Impala quietly as Dean mulled over the idea. “Holy shit, don't strain yourself Dean. If you don't want to come over-”  
“No, I do! I do!” He cut off quickly, turning to face the shorter man. “I'm just trying to think about Sammy. I mean, my dad doesn't give a shit about me, but sometimes... I dunno, he and Sam don't get along all that well,”   
“Oh. I'd invite her over too, but I don't think my original plans would be all that appropriate for Samantha,” he gave Dean a seductive grin before slipping into the passenger side of the car.  
“Whatever, she can stay at a friend's,” the boy muttered before getting into the driver's seat and kissing his boyfriend soundly on the mouth. “What do you have planned?” Castiel smirked and made a zipping motion across his lips, much to his companion's dismay. “Bastard.”

%%%%

It turns out Castiel's plans were pizza and a game of Twister. Fortunately, Naomi had left two frozen pizzas in the freezer for them to cook, rather than ordering out. Castiel silently thanked his mother for unintentionally diverting another confrontation with 'Kendra' the pizza girl. 

Dean set up the mat quietly while Cas fiddled around with the oven, pouting very obviously and glaring at Cas's ass.   
“Dean, stop trying to burn my clothes off with your eyes,” the smaller boy chided, “My mom tends to forget things so Naked Twister isn't really something I want her to walk in on when she comes home to get her purse.” Dean grunted sulkily and sat with his legs crossed in the middle of the mat, flicking the spinner absently.   
“But it's my birthday,” Dean reasoned impishly, knowing full well that Castiel knew that Dean's birthday was in January. His mouth twitched when the other boy rolled his eyes and walked over to the mat.  
“It isn't. But we can play tomorrow when we know for sure that my mom is actually gone,” he shoved the bigger boy out of the way and spun the spinner for Dean, calling out “Right hand, blue.”

Slowly they entwined themselves, the mat a flurry of limbs. Eventually they ended up in a very compromising position, no doubt one Dean had purposefully put them in. Castiel was on all fours, back towards the mat, while Dean had stretched himself over his companion and currently pressing his hips into his boyfriend's thigh. 

Castiel was smirking at him knowingly and reached over to spin the spinner. He grinned wickedly before announcing, “Nose, red.” Dean licked his lips and ducked his head between Cas's legs, sure to linger at his fly before moving his head and pressing his nose to the red dot. 

After that move, it didn't take long before the two boys were rolling around on the floor, kissing and tugging at each other's clothing desperately. In a blink, Castiel was pulling his partner up the stairs to his room, then throwing him down on the bed.

Dean's eyes were wide and dark with lust as he watched Castiel strip quickly and efficently before the shorter boy lunged forward and pulled Dean's shirt off impatiently. He paused to kiss him roughly, all teeth and tongue and hardly any lips then tossed the shirt over his shoulder. 

Frankly, Dean was surprised. He'd had no idea that Cas was going to be the one to initiate their first time together. They hadn't really ever gone much farther than the occasional blowjob, except for the little stunt Dean had pulled last night at the movies. Whether they would have sex or not, Dean had subconsciously decided that it would be the younger boy's decision.   
Although, however hard Dean tried, he simply couldn't focus on that right now. Not with Castiel stripped down to his briefs and kneeling between his legs, whispering dirty things in his ear and kissing his neck. No, it was impossible to have much of a thought process when his super hot, mostly-naked boyfriend kept demanding him to strip in that low, gravelly sex voice of his. 

Dean's brain finally switched into 'sex autopilot mode' and he began to fumble at the button of his jeans, much to his partner's satisfaction. He remembered suddenly that these jeans had a sticky fly and could sometimes take up to five minutes to undo. But that was when he was on his own, in his room without hot sex with Castiel as incentive, so he managed it in two. 

Castiel never stopped kissing Dean, whether it was on the mouth or the neck, as he reached over to grope around in his bedside table drawer. Dean supposed his finally found what he was looking for because he smiled and pulled away to unwrap the seal on the cap of a newly bought bottle of lube. Dean couldn't help but gape when he noticed a bulk pack of condoms, also unopened, lying on the bed by his leg. 

“Cas,” his voice was low, as he was trying to choose his words carefully, “Cas, why do you have-”  
“Lube?” The other boy finished, his smile amused. “I bought it the other night. At the drug store.” Dean smiled, trying to hide his confusion.  
“Yes, yes, I understand that. But why did you buy it?” Castiel chuckled and popped the cap.  
“Well, I had a feeling that we would be... You know, in the future and I wanted to be prepared. I did some research and-”  
“You researched it!?” Dean shrieked. Cas's eyebrows furrowed.  
“Yes, I wanted to know- Oh, Jesus Christ, Dean! Why does it fucking matter?” He was blushing furiously now and wouldn't meet his eyes. He closed the lid again and held the bottle in his hand, thumb brushing back and forth across the label.   
“I'm sorry, Cas. It just- you just took me by surprise, is all.” Castiel glanced up shyly, biting his lip tentatively,  
“Maybe... Maybe this wasn't the best night to have, er, to have-” he broke up, cheeks glowing red.  
“To have?” Dean prodded teasingly. He grinned at the younger boy's self consciousness.  
“You know,” Castiel persisted, voice dropping, “The frick frack,” his cheeks flamed.

It was all Dean could do to keep from laughing, What the fuck was a frick frack? He pressed his lips together and choked back the wave a laughter that was pressing against the back of his throat. He was sure that Castiel probably thought him constipated. 

Cas bit his lip as a poor attempt to keep himself from smiling and he half heartedly threw the bottle at Dean, finally causing the dam to break. They both erupted into fits of giggles, clutching at their soon to be sore stomachs. The older suddenly lurched forward and captured Castiel's lips with his own.

“Why are you so fucking adorable,” he groaned against those full pink lips. The smaller boy responded by lashing out with his tongue, claiming Dean's mouth as his. Their tongues battled for dominance and eventually Dean won, pushing Castiel back against the pillows. Their hips pressed together and Castiel thrust upwards desperately, causing delicious friction against Dean's already painfully hard length.

Dean hissed and made quick work of removing their underwear, tossing them onto the growing pile of fabric on the floor. He took Castiel's erection in hand and stroked him several times before pulling back to reach for the lube.  
“You wanna do this, Cas?” He confirmed tentatively, rolling a condom over himself. “If you don't-”  
“Dean,” the dark haired boy silenced, flicking the cap open, “I am the one who initiated this. Don't kill the mood with your over-protective brooding.” He squeezed some lube into his hand and then proceeded to slick him up, smiling indulgently at the sounds Dean was currently making.

“Oh Cas,” he moaned, bending forward and kissing the younger fiercely as Castiel continued to stroke Dean's length. The kiss deepened, as though they depended on it, as if the simple mess of their lips and tongues and teeth was their very life force. Dean's moved a hand to grip the sharp jut of Castiel's hip and the other dropped lower.

Slicked fingers brushed against Cas's length momentarily, before starting a long, maddening drag towards his crack.   
“Ah,” he hissed as Dean slipped one finger inside him, working him open. Another followed shortly after, scissoring him open and stretching him. It burned slightly when a third entered and it wasn't long before Dean removed his hand and placed it on Castiel's other hip. 

Their eyes met and locked, Dean's a silent emerald question and Castiel's a screaming, pleading blue answer. The older positioned himself and entered Castiel slowly, allowing him time to adjust. He bottomed out as Castiel's eyes snapped shut, their bodies heaving and breaths coming heavier by the moment. 

Dean kissed him then, lust taking him over and Castiel's hands wandering the tight plains of his back. He pulled back slowly to look at the younger boy, who's eyes opened suddenly. They were dark and his pupils were blown wide with need. His voice was hot and low when he growled the single word, “Move.”

And he did. He started slow, taking his time to relish the small whimpering sounds of Castiel losing his mind. The air was thick and heavy with the smell of sex, the blankets kicked to the floor and long forgotten. “Dean,” he begged, “Faster,” 

The pace picked up, their desperate panting masking the sound of skin on skin and the noise of Dean ripping Castiel apart at the seams,   
“Oh god, Cas!” Dean breathed as he drew closer to his peak. The sounds that the dark-haired boy was making were enough to make him come all on his own. 

Castiel's fingers gripped the sheets tightly, his knuckles turning white.  
“Harder, Dean! I'm so close- Ah!” He threw his head back, eyes rolling backwards as the older boy began jacking him off to the rhythm of his thrusts. The grip on his hips tightened as Dean's eyes fell closed, squeezing shut as he groaned  
“Castiel!” He hissed, and the pale-skinned boy was done for.

“Dean!” He cried, back arching off the bed violently. “Dean-” He came hard, covering Dean's fingers and he pulled his boyfriend across the edge.

%%%%

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *Sighs* Well I'll get started on the next chapter. The chapters seem to be averaging about 5-7 pages... I do try to make them longer (adding details is something I need to work on) but then they take longer to write. I'm going to try to write at least one chapter ahead from now on so I'll finish two chapters before posting a new one. (AKA a seven millennia wait for you guys until I get into a schedule.)
> 
> Again, sorry for being an irresponsible boobchugger and happy reading!  
> (My tumblr is equestrianinadevilstrap and my insta is feels_are_fatal)


	5. Appropriate Breakfast Choices Be Damned!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Eh. This Ch. and next one are both really short so sorry about that. I promise that most future chapters will be six pages or longer, providing I don't run out of things to elaborate. Enjoy!
> 
> P.S. Thanks for the super comments - y'all are amazing :) Feel free to ask any questions about the story or myself.

Because it hadn't been very late when he and Dean had fallen asleep last night, Castiel woke early. He stretched his arms languidly, surprised to find that his companion had curled around him in the night and that this position made it impossible for him to stretch enough to wake himself properly. Not that he minded.

He turned around in Dean's arms to snuggle into the older boy's bare chest, kissing the freckles on his shoulders lovingly. Last night had very well been the best night of his life and this boy had been the reason for it. Cas nuzzled the underside of Dean's chin, then kissed his jawline chastely. 

Dean's arms tightened around him suddenly and he buried his face in the mess that was Castiel's hair, inhaling his scent happily.   
“Mornin' Cas,” he mumbled groggily, pecking the smaller boy on the eyebrow.  
“Good morning, Dean. How did you sleep?” Green eyes flashed into view, staggeringly bright considering the early hour. Castiel glanced past Dean's shoulder at his digital clock and frowned when he saw that it was a little after seven thirty. A little too early for healthy conversation he supposed. Despite this, Dean answered somewhat intelligibly.

“Great, thanks to you,” his mouth curved into that ball-busting smirk, and it was turning Cas on.   
“I think I blacked out for a minute or two,” Castiel replied sheepishly, feeling a blush rise to his cheeks. God dammit! Dean is turning him into a fucking girl. Next thing you know he'll be walking around in pink satin panties. That smirk widened, turning into a shit-eating grin.  
“I'll take that as a compliment,” he said proudly.

Cas couldn't keep himself from smiling as he kissed his boyfriend. Save for the morning breath, Dean made it sweet. He cupped Castiel's chin and adjusted his angle so he had easier access to the smaller boy's mouth, propping himself up on one elbow so that his torso was hovering over his companion. Pale arms wound themselves around Dean's neck and pulled him closer.  
“Mmhm,” Castiel sighed, eyes drooping closed as he pulled away, licking his lips. Dean pecked him on the nose once before resting his forehead against Cas's. They stayed like this for some time, at least until after the older boy's arm finally got tired of holding him up because he flopped back down onto the mattress with a giddy smile.

“I love this, Cas.” Dean said quietly, eyes closing slowly as he took the raven haired boy's hand in his own, “Waking up next to you, right after we've fucked the shit out of each other,”  
“Such poetry, what a romantic,” the other boy replied dryly. They shared a look and simultaneously started laughing.   
“What can I say? I have a way with words,” 

%%%%

“We are not having waffles and ice cream for breakfast,” Castiel protested. After three hours of lazing around in bed, giggling at themselves and making out, they had finally decided that it was time for breakfast. Dean had suggested making cupcakes, ordering pizza and getting chocolate cannolis from the bakery across town. 

Castiel of course, being a practical human male, had shot all ideas down and returned with the more reasonable idea of bacon, eggs and waffles. The older boy had pouted and said that that was boring.   
“Sure we are. We've got four days to ourselves, Cas. Why not make it fun and exciting?”  
“Ice cream and waffle sandwiches are hardly fun and exciting, Dean. It's unnatural,” the smaller boy replied.   
“Oh shut up, you! You don't know anything.” Dean turned around and pulled the toaster waffles out of the freezer and put four in the toaster. “I'm going to teach you how to have fun,”   
“I know how to be fun,” Castiel objected sulkily,  
“Really? Outside of the internet, what do you do for fun?” Silence. “Exactly.”  
“Gay fanfiction is fun!”  
“I doubt it,”  
“I'll show you, Dean Winchester.” Dean grinned excitedly,  
“I look forward to it,” he reached for Castiel and puckered his lips.

The younger boy rolled his eyes and complied with Dean's silent request for a kiss. He pushed his boyfriend back against the fridge and folded his arms between their chests, tilting his head for a better angle. Dean moaned when Castiel nipped at his lower lip, smoothing over the mark with his tongue. His slipped into Dean's mouth and claimed it as his own, licking and biting playfully. 

Dean pulled away and nuzzled up under the shorter boy's chin. “Mm, I like you.” He murmured. Castiel huffed a laugh as his partner started to press kisses all over his neck, “You're all soft,” he spun them around and, not roughly, shoved him back against the fridge. Cas let out a small 'oof' and smiled, “And adorable,” Dean added, kissing under the corner of his jaw. 

When the waffles popped out of the toaster they both jumped, and then started giggling. They managed to unwrap themselves so that Castiel could get the ice cream out of the freezer. He bent over to root around in the drawer, cursing quietly when he realized his mother had dumped the whole frozen section of Trader Joe's into their freezer. Even more surprising, Dean was suddenly behind him. 

He stretched himself over Castiel's back, kissing his partner on the neck heatedly.   
“Dean,” he gasped quietly when the older boy pressed his hips against Castiel's ass, making him very aware of the major hard-on that Dean was sporting. “Mmhm,” he purred, wrapping his arms around Castiel's torso.   
“I need to get the ice cream,” he choked out, “If you keep groping me, we'll have sex and then we'll miss breakfast.”  
“Mm, well we wouldn't want that,” he said, backing away with a sly smile. 

%%%%

“What the fuck is wrong with me?” Castiel groaned around a mouthful of mint chocolate chip ice cream and waffle, “How could I refuse this beautiful idea?” He shoved another forkful of drippy green waffle into his mouth with a pleased hum. Dean chuckled happily, taking a normal sized bite of his waffle sandwich and chewing slowly while he continued to watch Castiel stuff his face.

As the sounds Castiel was making were basically out of a cheap budget porno, Dean eventually had to ask him to quiet down before he attacked him. It was a good thing too, because shortly thereafter, Gabriel dropped by. 

At first it was weird for Dean to see his art teacher outside of school, and then it was also strange that the man didn't even knock on the door before waltzing in and grabbing a handful of mints out of the bowl on the island. Then Dean remembered something that would explain both abnormalities; Gabriel was Cas's older brother. 

Despite all this, Castiel still seemed surprised to see his older brother. “Gabriel? What are you doing here?” The shorter man scoffed and popped a couple mints in his mouth before replying.  
“Nice to see you too, Cassie. How's your weekend going? Have you been working on your lube sculpture?” Dean choked on the milk he had been drinking and started coughing violently, meanwhile, Castiel had turned red as a tomato. His mouth gaped and he kept opening and closing it like a fish.  
“You heard that?” He finally managed, completely unaware of the fact that he had ice cream smeared on his cheek. Gabe shrugged,  
“Dude, I heard everything. And can I just say, despite your dirty talk skills being rough around the edges, I am both proud and disgusted with you for speaking like that both in my presence and at school.” He slapped his younger brother on the back with a bright smile. 

Gabriel turned to look at Dean, his expression turning serious. “As a responsible adult, I'm telling you two to be careful and to use protection. Just because you can't make a baby doesn't mean you can't spread nasty diseases.” Both boys groaned in embarrassment and Castiel started banging his forehead against the table. “But as a proud older brother, Cassie, I gotta know! Did you get some?” Cas groaned again while Dean buried his face in his hands. Gabe lowered his voice to a whisper and leaned towards Castiel, “Did you get the booty, Cassie? Were you top or bottom?” He glanced sideways at Dean, “Did he scream?” 

Cas sat up straight, face red with frustration and humilation.  
“Why, exactly did you come here? Because if it just to bug us, then you can fuck the hell off Gabriel! I swear to god I will hit you with a fucking bus!”  
“Whoa now Cassie,” the man held up his hands defensively, “I just dropped by to tell you Michaela was moving to Dubai.”  
“What?”  
“Anyways, I've gotta run. Lessons to plan, shitty art to grade. Adios muchachos!” He scurried out without another word. 

“Who's Michaela?” Dean asked quietly. He hoped to god not an ex – girlfriend, because fuck – that'd be awkward. The dark-haired boy furrowed his brow in contemplation.  
“Oh, no! No, no. Michaela is actually my oldest brother, Michael. Gabe thinks he's funny because one time somebody asked him to hook them up with his little sister 'Cas', so now we're all girls. I'm Cassie, he's Gabrielle and Mike is Michaela. It's dumb, Uriel was Uma.” He snorted at the name. It really was quite a terrible name, one saved for grandmothers.   
“Uriel?”  
“Oh, um, yeah. He was between me and Gabe. We adopted him when he was eight and I was six. Gabriel's twenty five and Michael is twenty six. I'm the youngest.” His voice was considerably quieter now, and he wouldn't meet Dean's eyes as he reached to put their dishes in the sink.   
“Was?”   
“Uh, he... Ah, he passed away about a month before we moved here, to Lawrence. He was out with some friends and got jumped on the walk home. They robbed and shot him.”   
“Oh,” Dean stepped forward to hug Castiel tightly, kissing his hairline softly.   
“The police stopped looking for the suspect quite soon after the incident. They told us the investigation was put on hold for the time-being and to-” his voice broke and suddenly Dean just wanted to hold him forever and comfort him until he couldn't remember why he had even been sad in the first place. “They told us to 'get on as best as we can',” he muttered bitterly, burying his face under Dean's chin.  
“Oh, Cas. Baby, I'm so sorry. I didn't mean to-”  
“No,” the smaller boy interrupted, “No it's okay. You couldn't have known,”

The older boy moved them to the living room and they sat on the couch for a few moments before Castiel suddenly wiped his eyes and stood up. “We're going to play a video game and talk about our families,” he pushed several buttons and put a disk into the Playstation. As he sat back down to wait for the console to boot up, he handed Dean a controller. “We've been together for over a month and we hardly know anything about each other's personal lives.”

Once they got started, Dean asked Castiel to tell him more about Michael and why he was moving. “I'm actually surprised you haven't heard of him, Dean. He owns The Angel Network. They have a lot of satellites and contracts with several of the leading radio, television and telephone networks. It's quite prestigious, although we only know so because we hear about it in the media. Once Mike moved out we hardly heard from him, save Gabriel. I think he's closer to Gabe than he was with even my mother,” Cas paused to side-swipe Dean's car with his own, sending his boyfriend as well as another player swerving into the ditch.  
“Asshole,” the older boy muttered. “I think I've heard of AN. They sponsor a car on the Formula One circuit.” Cas nodded.  
“Mike'll sometimes get to drive the car.”   
“Dude! That's fucking awesome!” Cas smiled.  
“Yeah, I suppose it is.” They played in silence for several minutes before Dean spoke again.

“Sammy's the golden child of the family. My mom, she passed away in a fire when I was little so it's just my dad looking after us. He doesn't care so much about me, since I'm technically a legal adult, but he's always pulling extra hours at the garage for Sammy. To help put Sammy through college, so Sammy can have spending money, so Samantha won't have to work so hard when she's older.” He sighed, cursing at another player who drifted right into the side of his car. “ Sometimes I wish he'd do something for me, you know?” Castiel's gaze flickered over to his boyfriend in concern, “Don't get me wrong, it's great. It's fucking awesome that Sam gets to have that option, to be able to have that extra so she can go to Stanford and become a fancy ass lawyer, but I feel like.... I feel like he just assumed that I wouldn't make it to college so he just skipped over the idea all together.”

Dean sighed heavily, “I mean, I guess he was right to assume that though.”  
“That you wouldn't go to college? Why?”  
“Well, come one Cas. It's not like I'd ever have the grades to actually get into a college that's worthwhile-”  
“What happened to California?”  
“What? Oh. Now that I think about it, I don't think I'll bother with the application, it's not like I'll get in-”  
“Don't you fucking tell me that, Dean Winchester!” The smaller boy growled suddenly. “Don't you fucking wreck our plans because you're acting like a self-pitying assbutt!” He dropped the controller and surged forward, knocking Dean to the ground with a vicious kiss. 

The older boy grunted at the impact, twisting carefully so that Castiel would land on top of him. He deepened the kiss briefly before pulling away to look at his partner with concern.   
“Castiel, did you just call me an assbutt?”   
“Shut up,” the younger boy growled and he rolled his eyes before diving back into the kiss.   
%%%%

“You look good shirtless,” Castiel observed as his hands wandered across the tight plains of Dean's stomach and chest. They decided that lunch was more important than potentially tripping up the stairs to get to Cas's room, falling and then ruining the mood, so they were sitting at the dining room table eating leftover pizza. Well, more like Dean was sitting at the table and Cas was straddling Dean's lap, eating Dean for lunch.  
“So do you... Mmph, can you imagine me showing at the beach with a stud like you on my arm? I'd get jealous stares from guys and girls.” He kissed Cas's neck softly, “Ooh, we should go to the beach tomorrow,”  
“Really?” The fair-skinned boy looked sceptical, “You want to go and get wet, and then get sand in your shorts and be walking funny because of sand chafing your balls?”

Dean smiled mischievously,  
“No, I want to get you wet and then get in your shorts and get you walking funny because my dick was up your ass,”   
“Looks like your marvellous way with words has convinced me that going to the beach is a wonderful idea. Mr. Winchester.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I have Ch. 6 completed! I'm unofficially making Saturdays my post days, mostly because Tuesdays are barn days, Sundays are horse show days and Fridays are fairly popular already (as far as I know). That gives me Mondays, Wednesdays, Thursdays and Fridays to write - and I will probably write on Saturdays too... 
> 
> Let me know what you think - I love getting your comments! Sorry for any mistakes :P 
> 
> Has anybody ever read the book "Geek Girls Unite" by Leslie Simon? BECAUSE ITS FUCKING BEAUTIFUL. I got it from the library and I want it >.


	6. Life's A Beach

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> OH MY FUCKING GOD! I am such a terrible person - I said you'd get a chapter on Saturday and oh look, it's fucking Monday at 10:00pm. Jesus Christ. In my defence, I was away Monday-Saturday morning and my laptop hadn't saved the whole chapter because it's a shitty Acer Netbook. Because I'm crap as a human being, the chapter is only like, 4 1/2 pages - but it's fluff. So enjoy.

Early the next morning, Cas woke to being wrapped in a sweaty Dean-cocoon. As if Castiel's room wasn't hot enough in the late-May heat, and now he had a heavy-ass male-model look-alike draped over him - who was about as hot in temperature is he was in appearance, so around fifty billion degrees Fahrenheit.

“Dean,” he growled uncomfortably, struggling to break free of the boy's vise-like grip. Fuck, he's strong. “Dean, I can't fucking breathe!” Castiel began karate-chopping her boyfriend's arms like a robotic ninja. He felt the low rasp of Dean's chuckle in the older boy's chest as he woke and the grip around his torso loosened enough for Castiel to regain a natural breathing pattern.   
“Do I need to perform mouth to mouth?” Came the belated reply to Cas's plea for life. Shit, his sleepy voice is almost as hot as his fuck voice.

Well, fuck you Dean Winchester for finding a way to incorporate kissing before Castiel. As punishment, Castiel gave his boyfriend a quick kiss before pulling away and rolling onto the floor with a thud. Dean snorted and swung his legs off the bed to rest his feet on the floor, gazing down at Cas fondly before standing up and stepping on him carefully.   
"Hey Asshole!" The smaller boy shouted, starting a brief wrestling match that resulted in Dean tripping over the plae-skinned boy and face-planting the carpet.

They raced downstairs for breakfast after several complaints about rug burn and 'rumbly tummies'. This time, Cas had insisted that it would be something more practical. Cereal for example, or beef jerky and Cadbury Creme Eggs.   
%%%%%

“The fuck do you mean you don't have a bathing suit?” Castiel demanded, slamming a jar of peanut butter down on the counter angrily. Dean rolled his eyes,  
“Cas, calm down! I'll just run out and buy one, it'll take me fifteen minutes – I swear.”   
“Seventeen if traffic is bad,” the shorter boy replied grumpily, “We'll be late to leave for the beach,”   
“Then you stay here and do the lunch and I'll go by myself,” Dean suggested hopefully, reaching for his wallet that was on the counter. Of course, because Cas is his wife, and picnic-packing is women's work. Fuck you, Dean.  
“But you'll just get the first thing you see in your size! Hawaiian print would look terrible on you!” He wailed. Dean looked like he was having a seizure over by the front door. “What?” Cas snapped.  
“You do realize how gay that sounded, right?” He laughed,  
“Shut up. Get a solid print in either army green or navy blue, make sure there's mesh in them or you'll be hanging out everywhere, and for the love of all things holy, DO NOT get a Speedo!”   
“Okay, okay! No Speedo, solid colours and mesh. Got it.” He darted out the door before Cas could add anything else. 

Honestly, Dean hadn't thought that bathing suit shopping would be as difficult as it was. He had picked Target because of it's proximity to Cas's house and the somewhat cheap prices. He walked back to the swimwear section and hurried over to flick through the clearance rack, which consisted of hot pink or red Hawaiian print and black Speedos. Figures. He considered buying one of the Speedos just to rile Cas up, but decided against it at the thought of actually wearing one. He squelched a shudder.

He moved over to a different rack and found a green pair of swim trunks that looked okay. Dean grumbled as picked through the rack to find that, of course, there were none in his size. Fortunately a girl wandered over to help him shortly after he couldn't find his size in a pair of sky blue board shorts.   
“Hello,” she greeted cheerfully, and Dean could tell she was having trouble keeping herself from staring at his ass. “Can I help you with something? Do you have a specific colour in mind, or..?”

Dean smiled tightly and recited the list that Cas had given him. The girl, who was around Dean's age and was named Kayley, bit her lip and led him over to a small rack by the change rooms.   
"You're girlfriend knows what she likes on you," Kayley mentioned, picking a some of the suits.  
"I don't have a girlfriend," Dean replied carefully. He really shouldn't encourage the poor girl.  
"Oh?" Her voice shot up hopefully. Dean smiled,  
"Yeah, my boyfriend would be jealous." She laughed, not uncomfortably.

Kayley continued to dig through the mess of bathing suit before withdrawing and holding up a pair hopefully. “They're on sale,” she offered. Added bonus, because the ones she'd found appeared to meet all of Cas's requirements. Hell, Dean might even look good in them. He nodded gratefully and took the shorts, checking the size and the price. Yes, they matched all the criteria so Cas wouldn't have a reason to be pissy if he didn't like them. Smiling, Dean gave Kayley a quick wave and a thank you before turning around to run towards the checkouts

Because he was in a rush, he'd had to get lost and run into a toilet paper display, knock it over and send rolls of TP flying everywhere which he'd had to sloppily rearrange before darting to the front of the store before anyone could give him shit. He paid for the swimsuit and sprinted to the Impala, nearly taking out a little kid standing in the doorway of the store eating a Jumbo bag of marshmallows. When he arrived back at Castiel's he was red faced and panting. 

It wasn't a surprise that the little bastard was sitting at the counter texting with a neatly packed cooler sitting beside him. Dean slipped into the bathroom to change before alerting Cas to his presence.

“Well?” He asked breathlessly, holding out his arms. Cas spun around on the bar stool to analyze Dean's choice. The shorts were navy blue and fell to Dean's knees. The ties and stitching were white and the taller boy's torso was bare, displaying his exquisitely toned abdomen and chest. The raven-haired boy gnawed on his lip and stood up to display his outfit, a navy tank top that's neckline dipped down to the middle of his chest, along with the sides, showing off Cas's slim torso. He wore white board shorts with a navy tribal design that matched his shirt and a pair of aviators were perched atop his perfectly ruffled bedhead. 

Dean shielded his eyes and willed himself not to attack his boyfriend then and there, “Ah, my eyes! He's too hot, I can't see!” Cas grinned and stalked forward to kiss his boyfriend on the mouth firmly,   
“You don't look half bad either,” he joked, linking his fingers through Dean's and reaching to smack the older boy's ass. Dean growled playfully and kissed the pale skin of Cas's neck adoringly. “Help me carry the cooler?” Castiel asked brightly, fluttering his lashes coquettishly. Dean's mind was suddenly washed with images of Cas in a corset and fishnet stockings. 

No, dick, now is not the time to pretend to be the CN Tower.

“I suppose that's a reasonable request,” Dean replied, picking up one handle.

%%%%

“Dean,” Cas leaned closer to his companion, “They're making me feel uncomfortable,” he whispered. As they lugged the cooler towards where they'd set up their towels, all females were focused on them and their straining muscles.

Some whistled and others simply stared, sucking in their already thin waistlines and pushing out their chests. Dean shot a smile towards Cas, who was hiding his discomfort expertly behind those smokin' aviators. 

With a huff the boys dropped the cooler and started setting up the umbrella, doing their best to ignore the heated stares that were focused on them. To be honest, Cas was afraid to take his shirt off in fear of being attacked, especially by Dean, judging by the way his emerald eyes were darkening by the second.

After their base was satisfactory, they hesitantly stripped off their shirts and flip flops, earning them several wolf whistles and cheers of approval. Dean frowned when Cas ducked his head. He'd forgotten that in school Cas was ridiculously shy and liked to go fairly unnoticed. Angry that the crowd of women could make Cas feel like he needed to hide, he stepped towards his boyfriend and slung an arm around his shoulders, reeling him in for a short, hot kiss. 

Most girls cheered or gasped and Cas smiled softly at his over-protective companion as they walked into the waves. 

%%%%%%%%

They swam for a few hours before lunch and then tanned for a bit until they got too hot and waded back into the water.   
“Fuck, there's too many rocks by the shore,” Dean complained, easing lower in the water. Cas chuckled a swam out farther, flipping onto his back to talk to his boyfriend.  
“Poor baby. Should we get you some water shoes?” He snickered, Dean splashed some water at him with a smile before diving under. It was a few moments before he resurfaced closer to Castiel, kicking lazily towards him,  
“Maybe," he snipped, "And the water's too cold,” he continued,  
“Aw, they haven't been turning the heater off at Aquafit?”   
"I'll show you Aquafit," Dean grinned and kissed him slowly before sinking back under. 

 

Large hands suddenly latched onto his hips and launched him up, sending him flying across the top of the water before he landed with a massive splash. Shit, Dean's strong. Must be all those hours under the Impala. And possibly under Cas.

“Hmm, have they upgraded you from pool noodles to weights? You seem fitter,” Cas teased, keeping the Aquafit thing going. Dean smiled wolfishly.   
“Don't make me start pool noodle jokes,” he hissed and jumped towards him, tackling him in the waves and kissing him. 

They surfaced, Dean pulling Castiel's legs around his waist and moving shallower so he could stand on his tiptoes. It was obvious to Cas that Dean was ready to start something, although the beach was still much too crowded.   
“Dean,” he gasped, “Dean there's too many people watching,” he warned between heated kisses.  
“Good. Let 'em watch, maybe then they'll realize that you're mine. When you scream my name.” He growled, biting at the smaller boy's neck possessively. 

“Dean, I don't want them to see you,” he said. That made the Winchester freeze, he pulled away, confused.  
“What?”  
“Not like that, not while we're together like that. That's for me,” he took another pull on Dean's lips, “Those little gasps, the moans. The way you sweat for me – that's for me, and vice versa.”  
“Cas,” Dean whispered, eyes dark.  
“Dean, I don't need them to know I'm yours. Yes, I love that they can see that we're together and be jealous, but I don't need them to. As long as I know -” he was cut off by a searing kiss and a desperate sort of moan.  
“Cas, will you watch the sunset with me?” And damn, if that wasn't romantic. Maybe Cas was turning Dean into a girl too.   
%%%

It was eleven o'clock before the beach was cleared. Most families had left a little after dinner time and by the time the sun was halfway below the horizon there were only about a dozen couples left on the beach, curled up in blankets and each other and their ugly teenage love. 

When the last few people finally wandered away, the boys shared a look and then suddenly it was a race to see who could undress and get to the water first. They left towels close enough to the water that it would take only a few seconds for them to snatch up their towels and cover up, but far enough away that the waves wouldn't lap them up and pull them out with the under toe 

They picked up where they had left off earlier that afternoon and it took them less than five minutes before they were panting and mouthing at each other's throats. It went unspoken that there would be no blowjobs and because waterproof lube had yet to be discovered, it looked like the best they could get would be water-slowed handjobs.

“Ah, Dean!” Cas gasped as the older boy's fingers formed a loose tunnel around their lengths. He groaned as those magical fingers worked them both, stroking and teasing as Castiel focused his tongue on the hardened peaks of Dean's nipples. He sucked a purple mark under the sharp jut of his collarbone, earning a pleased sound crossed between a moan and a whimper from the older boy. 

Cas lifted his head and resumed his work with Dean's mouth, tongue darting forward to lick inside and claim Dean as his. Dean's fingers frantically urged them both towards the edge, twisting and pulling and stroking. “Yes,” the younger boy moaned, fingers fisting in the short spikes of Dean's hair. “Oh God, Dean!” His hips bucked forward as he came, pulling his lover across the edge alongside him. 

It was in that moment, after they had recovered from their orgasm-induced high, that Castiel remembered what he'd meant to say while the sun was setting.

“I love you,” he whispered, resting his forehead against Dean's.  
“I love you too, Castiel.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As previously mentioned, I was away last week. I was actually at my grandparents' house with a friend who had not ye been subjected to the beauties of buttsex, so writing this chapter while I was away would've been risky. 
> 
> I quickly fixed my buddy's innocence by getting her to read Twist and Shout. (I thought 'forcing' was a bit strong of a word, although that's technically what I did since she hates SPN with a burning passion). Anyways, she read it, fell in love with Destiel (like literally EVERYTHING Destiel) and died as the rest of us did. Everytime I bring it up now, I get beaten to death so... Yeah :)
> 
> Also.... If you /wanted/ o follow my SPN account on Instagram I changed the username to profound_bondage. I was also thinking of doing that on AO3. 
> 
> One last thing... If I were to write a one or two chapter AU Destiel ficlet where Dean is an equestrian (for example, if he were to jump horses at Grand Prix level) and he took his boyfriend Cas to the barn one day, would anybody read it?


	7. Crazy Eyes

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> *The warnings will be put to use in this chapter... All of them*

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm sorry.

As the weeks passed, Cas and Dean only grew closer. After some careful consideration, both boys decided that they were ready to make their relationship public. Of course they weren't planning on dressing in rainbow and molting glitter in front of the whole school – instead they simply stopped being so discreet. 

They allowed themselves soft touches, a small brush of knuckles or a quick kiss on the cheek before parting ways after the classes they did share together. It was almost easier, not telling anyone and just letting their peers make the assumptions themselves. 

As was expected, people started acting different around them, Dean more specifically. Because of his bad-boy, doesn't-take-shit-from-anyone reputation, coming out seemed to contradict basically everything about his "dangerous" personality. People started talking about him behind his back while he was standing within earshot, they would tease him incessantly and a couple of guys even stopped talking to him.

Castiel's situation was only a little bit easier, more so because all of his close friends had already known, what with the whole using Meg to make Dean jealous plan. His table had been a chorus of cheers and laughter when Dean sat down next to Cas and kissed him soundly on the mouth.  
“Finally!” Balthazar remarked, slapping his cousin on the back proudly. “Oi, Anna!” He called the the little redhead across the table, today was one of the few days that Balthazar's sister had decided to sit with them, “I told you Cassie was queer!” 

The dark-haired boy narrowed his eyes at the term but in Dean's opinion, it was difficult for Cas to look scary with his hair sticking every which way in a post-make out tangle. Anna scoffed and continued to pick at her salad,  
“Balthy, maybe Cas doesn't want everyone knowing,” she reprimanded softly, gaze flicking to the two boys questioningly. Dean opened his mouth to speak, but Castiel beat him to it,  
“No, we decided to come out.. ish. I mean, we aren't going to start a parade or like, make a speech or anything. We just decided to stop hiding it.” There were nods around the table and Meg, who Dean hadn't noticed until now made a small noise of approval. 

“Um, sorry to interrupt...” Castiel tore his eyes away from Dean to look at Samantha Winchester.  
“Sam?” Dean sounded just as surprised as Cas.  
“Uh, hi Dean.” She looked uncomfortable under the gazes of half a dozen seniors,  
“What's up? Is that Ruby chick bugging you again? I swear-”  
“No offence, Dean, but I kinda just wanted to ask Cas something.”   
“Oh. Well then, by all means.” He sounded mildly hurt. Ignoring her brother, the younger Winchester cleared her throat and focused her attention on Castiel.  
“So, I know that freshmen aren't technically allowed to help with the yearbook, but I was looking at some of the past yearbooks and er, there wasn't a whole lot of coverage on the freshmen – especially the grade nine sports teams, so I was wondering if I could kinda, uh, work specifically on that?” Castiel's brows knitted together.  
“You want to be in charge of the freshman section of the yearbook?” He clarified hesitantly.  
“Well, the sports more exclusively. Just because I'm involved in so many of the teams,”  
“You are?” Dean interrupted. Sam rolled her eyes, cocking her hip in exasperation.  
“Yes, Dean. I'm on the soccer team, the track team, the frisbee team, I was on the volleyball team and I'm one of the two junior members of the rugby team,” she said proudly. Both boys looked to Meg for confirmation. The older girl shrugged,  
“What? You guys were too busy making out to notice her following me around,"  
“Anyways!” Sam growled,  
“Okay, so you want to do the freshmen sports coverage? Like take the pictures, write a couple columns, collect all the names and shit?”  
“Is that not what I just said?”  
“Sam,” Dean warned. His younger sister had been absorbing all the sass in the school. It was getting ten times worse now that she was spending some time with Cas when he came over after school. She simply blew her bangs out of her face in response.

“Well, you certainly have the attitude for it. Look Sam, I'd love to say yes, especially because you'd be great at covering everything, but I don't really have that much of a say since I just take the photos. You'd have to ask Hester and she's not exactly fond of freshmen.” Castiel's disappointment translated through his voice, eyes honest and soft.  
“But if you were to back me up...?” She insisted.  
“I still don't know if it'd work, but I'll give it a shot.” Sam squealed and leaped forward to throw her arms around Castiel, almost knocking him backwards off the chair.   
“THANK-YOU, THANK-YOU, THANK-YOU!” Cas sort of awkwardly patted the girl's back, eyes pleading Dean for help.  
“All right, Sam stop molesting my boyfriend.” She darted backwards, bitch face in full blast.  
“Ew, Dean. I was just hugging him.”

She spun around and darted back to her table. She was talking animatedly with a blonde girl about her height and a taller boy with sandy blonde hair. The girl smiled and it looked like she was congratulating her, until she darted forward and kissed Sam on the mouth. Dean's eyes widened until Sam pulled back in shock. The boy was staring in surprise. Sam said something quietly and then the blonde girl shot out of her chair and hurried from the cafeteria. 

%%%%

“Fuck!” Castiel exclaimed, stopping dead in the middle of the hallway. Dean turned around, confusion evident on his face.  
“What?”  
“Ugh, I have Photography Club after school so I'll have to walk home.” He sighed and continued walking, shoulders sagging.  
“I thought you liked Photography Club?” Dean asked curiously, fingers grazing the back of Castiel's hand comfortingly.  
“I do, unless I could be making out with you in your car.” Dean grinned.  
“I'll wait for you and we can do more than make out in the art room when you're done,” Cas rolled his eyes, stopping at his locker.  
“I thought you were hanging out with Garth and Benny tonight?”  
“I'll cancel,” he replied quickly. Castiel raised a questioning eyebrow, shoving his books onto his shelf. “What? Neither of them are hot black-haired, blue-eyed beauties who have a knack for blow jobs,” Cas scoffed and punched him in the arm.  
“Assbutt," He said with a loving smile, "No, I'll walk. You've been spoiling me too much.” Dean looked unconvinced, however he didn't push the issue any further. 

He watched his boyfriend calmly as Castiel pulled out his camera bag and laptop from one of the plastic cubbies that Dean had installed for him. He shut the door quietly and locked it, then turned towards Dean. Cas stood up on his toes to reach the older boy's mouth, kissing him chastely once, and then twice before spinning away and jogging down the corridor towards the library, leaving Dean smiling like an idiot in the middle of the hall.

%%%%

“Okay, Hester, please stop messing with my prints.” Castiel said, jaw set with agitation. The girl had been fiddling around with them for the past ten minutes, holding them up to the light, rearranging them on the page and squinting at every detail. 

The blonde girl frowned at him and then went back to squinting. She pursed her lips thoughtfully, turning to hold the picture up to some better lighting and then nodding, finally deciding what was wrong.  
“I think we're going to need a re-take of the boy's basketball team, some of the guys aren't smiling.” She handed the picture to a fuming Castiel and then wandered over to another station. Cas glared at her back and set the photo down on the table.

If Castiel had known that Hester was going to be at the meeting, he probably wouldn't have come. Lately the girl had been grating on his nerves, mostly because of her attitude, but also because since he had come out she had been making his job a living hell. He'd confided in Dean, as well as Balthazar and Becky who had all given different advice.

Dean of course had encouraged Cas to ignore her, maybe knock her around a little bit to show her that he wasn't going to take any of her shit, Balthazar had suggested that perhaps Hester was just secretly in love with him and that they needed to have hot, angry sex to get rid of the problem. Dean had needed to be restrained from clocking Cas's cousin in the jaw for that remark, and Becky's idea hadn't really been taken into consideration because it was insane, as well as illegal. 

Anna, being a lurker, told Castiel he needed to stand up to her and tell her how he felt. This idea, although a good one, hadn't worked at all. Instead, Cas thought it had made Hester worse.

“Dude this blows,” said Kevin, one of the layout designers. “She's making me code a brand new layout because last year's was the same as another school's. I don't have time for this shit, the due date is next week and I haven't even started yet.”

“I think she needs to be taken down a few pegs,” muttered Luc. Luc, whose full name was Lucifer, was the only freshman in the history of the Yearbook Committee to be on the team. Nobody knew how he got there, just that he somehow managed to get everything they needed, whether it be funding, information or some sort of clearance, Luc was the one to get it. 

Cas wasn't sure why the kid had been named after Satan, but he was pretty sure that it was a good fit.

“Castiel!” He turned around to regard Hester, whose eyes were blazing. “Where the fuck are the photos for the freshmen sports teams?” He winced at the pure shrillness of the girl's voice, sharp in his ears.  
“About that. Samantha Winchester was wondering if she could cover that section. She said she'd cover the photos, interviews, basically the whole nine yards.”  
“When was she wondering this?”  
“Today at lunch. She asked me-”  
“You? Why would she ask you? You don't run the Yearbook,” the ice in her voice was literally giving him the chills.  
“That's what I told her,” he bit out, “But I also said that I would ask.”  
“Fine. But since you're not doing that, you may as well leave.”  
“What? Why?” She rolled her eyes,  
“Because that's what we're working on today and tomorrow, dumbass. I need the new pictures by Friday.” 

And he was dismissed.

%%%%

Walking out the front doors, he was too busy grumbling to notice the figure lounging against the railing by the steps until he heard his name, and by then it was too late.  
“Well, well, long time no see Cassie.” Fuck. Fuck, fuck, fucking shit. Fuck. He turned around, expression pained as he discreetly try to put some distance between himself and the older boy.  
“Hello Azazel,” he acknowledged coolly, praying that his tormentor wouldn't be able to see his knees shaking. 

The college student crept forward, like a cat preying on a small mouse. His strange yellow contacts glowed menacingly and he neared Castiel, who was frozen in fear. Rough fingers tickled under his chin teasingly, much like the way Dean would do it if he was trying to make Cas laugh. He wasn't laughing now.

The smaller boy grimaced and turned his head, finally managing to take a step back, sneakers scuffing the concrete walkway. Azazel wagged his finger disapprovingly and snatched up the front of Castiel's shirt, dragging him along towards the back of the school. 

Azazel had picked the right time to return, it had been a little over two months since the last beating that had put him in the hospital and Cas had very much believed that it was over. How wrong he'd been. Azazel had shown up at the perfect moment, all of the teachers had gone and Photography Club wouldn't be over for at least another hour.

He tossed Castiel towards the wall, the younger boy's body slamming roughly against the bricks. He head cracked off the concrete and he sank to the ground with a whimper.   
“I've been hearing things Cassie,” chided the larger boy, “There are rumours, and I thought that I could help you out a little,” he darted forward and sent a foot flying into Cas's stomach. “I'll cure you Castiel,” he said, almost with concern. 

Spitting out blood, Castiel scowled.   
“There's nothing about me that needs curing.”   
“Like hell there isn't! You fucking faggot!” Came the screeched reply. He shot forward and buried his grubby fingers in Cas's shirt, hoisting him up and then shoving him back against the wall with a sickening crack. Cas yelped and scrabbled to get free.  
“I see how it is,” Azazel realized calmly. “I didn't see it before when I was watching you and your grimy little boy toy, but now I do. No, you don't need to be cured,” he laughed boyishly, “Naw, you just need to be taught a lesson.” He took a hand off Castiel's shirt to stroke at his jaw. “You see Cassie, I think you just need to learn that it's okay to be a fag, but you should keep it to yourself. Maybe Winchester doesn't get that, but I do.”

Azazel dropped Cas back to the ground, stepping away from the dazed boy. “It's okay of you wave to each other,” he demonstrated waving, “And it's okay if you, say, hug once in a while; if something really great happens.” He returned back to Castiel, kneeling beside his limp form. “But it's not okay to do this,” his fingers ghosted over Cas's face in a sick rendition of the way Dean would do it, “Or this,” he bent down to kiss his forehead, “And especially not this,” his mouth moved to Castiel's, tongue delving in roughly.

Castiel nearly choked on the taste of Azazel's breath, and he struggled to get away. Sensing the smaller boy's panic, Azazel swung a leg over his hips and sat down to straddle him, deepening the kiss. Cas thrashed under him, trying to move away, but Aze shoved him back down and started to tug off Castiel's t-shirt. 

He pulled a knife from his back pocket and made a clean slice across Castiel's chest before bending down to lick away the blood. Cas made an awful noise and tried not to puke. He was weak now, from his struggling and from blood loss and so he stopped trying to to get away and just let it happen. 

He let Azazel drag him under the bleachers, he let him continue making small slices along his chest and then on his thighs once his pants were removed. He stopped screaming and let him continue with his underwear after he'd been gagged with his own shirt.   
"It's certainly not okay to fuck each other either," But he started kicking again when those probing fingers wandered. 

%%%%

Cas woke to a bright room that smelled of chemicals and death. He strained to sit up, wincing at the sharp pain in his ribs. If it wasn't the smell, it was the ugly disposable curtains that gave it away. He was in a hospital. 

He surveyed the room, judging by the size it was a private one – his mother's work he supposed. For such a well-known surgeon, nobody ever knew where she was. His heart stopped when he saw a figure sprawled across the only chair, head thrown back and mouth hanging open. He knew that snore anywhere.

Dean.

He quickly decided not to wake his slumbering boyfriend, knowing full well that he had probably been there since he found out that Cas was in the hospital. Upon further inspection of the room, he determined that his backpack was sitting on the floor beside Dean's foot and that if he wanted his phone, he would need to get out of bed to get his backpack.

Although he tried to get out of bed, all he could manage was sitting on the edge with one foot up and one foot down before his ribs and his chest screamed in protest. With a pained grunt he tucked himself back in under the covers and resolved to spend his time staring at Dean. Would he know? He prayed that he wouldn't, it would only complicate things. Dean was very much the over-protective boyfriend, so if he found out it would be a struggle to try to do anything without being followed around by a macho gay bodyguard. 

It must be late because the building was so quiet that he could hear his phone vibrating across the room. His mother would have called his aunt and Balthazar, being a prick, would eavesdrop and then tell Anna who would be in a hysterical panic. He needed to call either Milton and let them know he was okay. God dammit, Dean wake up! 

Frustrated, he twisted around despite the sharp jolt in his side and whipped one of his pillows across the room and nailing the older boy in the face, startling him awake. He snorted and sat up quickly, eyes immediately flying to Castiel, who was glowering at him from the hospital bed.

He didn't look terribly menacing with a black eye, several bruises on his face and a split lip, but that was just Dean. Cas could be dressed up as a biker holding a gun to his head and Dean wouldn't be scared because come on, it was fluffy-headed blue-eyed Castiel who liked post-sex cuddling and Cadbury Creme Eggs for breakfast. 

Aside from all that, Dean still managed to tear up at the sight of him. The way he'd been lying there when Dean had arrived, he'd looked close to death.  
“Dean,” the smooth rasp of Castiel's voice interrupted his train of thought. “Get me my phone. Please.” He added as an afterthought.   
“Cas, you have a concussion. You're not supposed to be looking at a screen or reading for another twenty four hours.”  
“That's bullshit,” the smaller boy exclaimed, holding his hand out petulantly.   
“Dude, it's doctor's orders,” he reasoned.  
“Fuck the doctors,” Dean rolled his eyes and dug through Cas's backpack for his boyfriend's phone. He stood slowly and handed the iPhone to the drawn-looking Castiel then sat down on the edge of the bed.

Just as expected, Castiel had four new messages from Anna, several frantic texts from Balthazar and surprisingly, a text from Meg. All three were wondering if he was okay and wanting to know what had happened. He sent out a group message summarizing that Azazel had roughed him up but that he should be out by tomorrow. 

“Cas, are you okay?” Emerald eyes were watching him with concern. Dammit Dean, don't look at me like that.   
“Yeah, just a little shaken up.” Dean smiled sadly and leaned forward, meaning to kiss him on the cheek. Cas froze suddenly and pulled back, eyes wide with fear.   
“Cas?” Fuck dammit. Dean looked like he'd been slapped across the face.   
“What if someone sees?” Castiel whispered, eyes darting nervously to the door. Dean's brow furrowed in confusion.  
“Let them see. Baby, I thought we talked about this,” Right, they had. They'd decided to come out, Cas remembered now. He winced when those freaky yellow eyes appeared, taunting him from the recesses of his mind.   
“Oh. I-I'm sorry, I forgot.” Well, shit. Judging by Dean's expression that was the worst thing he could have said. “Just – just for a second,” he stammered, trying to console his boyfriend. He leaned forward the rest of the way and kissed him softly, quickly, because what if Azazel found out?

This kiss was too short. Castiel was acting strange. Had Azazel said something to him? Threatened him? Dean bit his lip, brows knitting together in a worried furrow. Although it was probably a good thing that the kiss was short because right then, Naomi Novak waltzed in. 

She smiled brightly at the older boy before ducking her head to kiss Cas's forehead. Odd, he didn't pull away from her. She clasped his hand, and then Dean's.   
“Baby, we're so lucky that Dean found you!” She gushed, not noticing those azure eyes widen in horror and then dart to Dean for confirmation. “That's the second time! Dean, thank-you.” She gave them each a peck on the cheek before darting towards the door. “I have a few more patients to see before I get off. I'm taking you boys for ice cream. Castiel, we'll talk about this later,” and with that, she was gone.

“Cas-”  
“I don't want to talk about it right now.” And Castiel turned back to his phone.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yeah, so I'm a horrible fucking human being. Sorry about that. Here's this chapter today because I'm away all day tomorrow and Sunday.  
> ***
> 
> On a sort of equally sad note, I've been to the doctor recently and I've been hesitantly diagnosed with adolescent depression. I say hesitantly because we aren't positive, as I needed to get blood work done in case I have low blood sugar or low iron or something. I've been prescribed sleeping pills for now since I have pretty restless sleep and I don't get to sleep very easily.
> 
> On a slightly brighter note I had to explain to my doctor what I do on the internet for four hours a day. I said reading (I didn't mention the gay porn) and was impressed *laughter turns into sobbing* and when I told my dad he gave me a high five... A high five for having depression. Thanks.


	8. You Weren't Supposed To Know...

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I know that there are a few readers that asked about the level of angst in this chapter. I believe I said on a scale of one to ten (ten being Twist and Shout) I rated it a five.
> 
> Unfortunately, because of Azazel's attack on Cas this chapter will probably actually be a 7 or 8 because of the topic of suicide later on in the chapter. If you would prefer to skip this chapter (or abandon the story all together) I can summarize it for you if you'd like.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Again, warning for an attempted suicide.

Castiel was released from the hospital the next afternoon. His mother took the day off work to spend time with him and make sure that he was okay at home. Naomi decided that he would take as much time off school as he needed, because 'there were only a few weeks left until graduation anyhow'. 

Cas was quiet, only speaking if asked a direct question, and even then he could really only manage a few words. He hadn't seen Dean since that day at the hospital, only because Naomi had sent him home after he'd spent another night in the same outfit without eating or showering. 

To be honest, Castiel was relieved. Without Dean hovering at his bedside he needn't put up the thick wall of indifference to protect him. It had been a struggle to keep up the facade of mild okay-ness that would keep Dean from freaking out. 

Now that he didn't have to pretend, Castiel was a wreck. After three days of fruitless coaxing from his mother to eat something, she gave up and left him to himself – there were only so many days a brain surgeon could take off work before she was needed again at the hospital. He couldn't stay in bed, that would lead to falling asleep and if he slept the nightmares would consume him.

They were horrible, the nightmares. They would start out fairly okay, he would be spending time with Dean or walking somewhere to meet him, the day would be sunny and he would be happy. Then, the clouds would slip in when he wasn't paying attention, and there were hands grabbing at him, sharp nailed fingers clawing, pulling him into the smothering darkness that choked him and prevented him from crying out. 

The fingers poked and prodded, reenacting Azazel's attack with great accuracy, save for the visuals. He would scream himself hoarse in his sleep and wake up with a raw throat and puffy eyes, more tired than he'd been before he'd closed them. 

He tried eating once, a few soda crackers and a glass of water, but had immediately rejected the idea of food after four hours of dry heaving and crying. He avoided the kitchen at all costs. The television was also a trigger, most shows had something to avoid, whether it be kissing or fighting, or knives in the instance of Food Network, he usually ended up curled around the toilet as a shivering, sobbing mess. 

Eventually the ringer on his phone had had to be turned off. He had 27 missed calls, mostly from Dean, although Balthazar, Anna and Meg had all tried contacting him at least once. He had too many text notifications to worry about, most of them saying the same thing, How are you? Or, Feeling any better? It was tiring and he had a feeling that Naomi would call Balthazar's mother soon.

He slowly made it down the stairs, managing to not trip over the blanket wrapped around his shoulders, and walked into the living room. The couch was inviting as he sank into it, leaning against one of the arm rests. Oddly enough, it smelled like Dean. But, that would be because this was the end that Castiel's boyfriend would sit at when they watched movies or re-runs of Doctor Sexy M.D. He cracked a small smile at the memories, until Azazel's voice washed in and reminded him that showing affection was wrong. The smile faded into a frown as Castiel hid his head under the blanket, as if the dark would chase away any of his tears. 

It didn't.

Castiel jumped when the land line shrilled, biting his lip before deciding to answer it. He'd had hardly any human contact for days and his mother had insisted that talking to his friends would help. He picked up the handset and held it to his ear carefully, as if Azazel was on the other end, waiting to jump through the phone and kill him.  
“Hello?” He answered quietly, voice barely audible over the crackle of the quiet line,  
“Cas?” Dean was wary, as if Castiel answering the phone was some big prank and it turned out to just be the answering machine again.  
“Hello, Dean.” He confirmed, words catching on the soreness of his throat.  
“Cas!” He flinched at the volume, “Are you okay? You haven't been answering your phone, I was worried,”  
“It was off,” Cas said hesitantly, like Dean could blow up at him at any moment.  
“Oh. Well, whatever. How are you feeling? What did your mom say?”  
“I'm fine, my mom told me to eat and rest it off,”  
“Are you? Eating and resting, that is?” Dean sounded sceptical, almost knowing.  
“I'm not really hungry,” Castiel replied after a small pause, trying to think of something, anything to say other than 'No, I was hoping if I would starve to death.'  
“Cas, baby, you have to eat,” came the firm reply, and god, did Dean ever sound like Naomi. No wonder the two had hit it off. “What about sleep? Have you slept?”

Dean took the silence on the other end as a 'no'. He sighed, more so in sympathy than frustration. “Cas,” he murmured sadly. The younger boy was trying desperately to hide his mental condition from Dean, although he already had an idea of how wrecked his boyfriend really was. 

When Castiel had ignored him at the hospital in favour of his phone, Dean knew how bad it was. In the couple of months that he had known Cas, the younger boy had never tried to put up a strong front to hide Dean from his problems. He had generally been open and forthcoming with any issues that he'd had, accepting Dean's help and advice fairly easily. 

Dean expected that Azazel had done more than just give Castiel a few bruises and he hoped, prayed, that he was wrong.  
%%%%%

Castiel looked in the mirror in horror. Now that most of the gauze pads had been removed, he could see himself for the dirty, ugly thing that he was. 

His chest and stomach were riddled with scars and bruises, giving his skin a strange blue-y green hue. There were dark circles under his once-bright blue eyes and his face was gaunt and drawn. His skin looked like it had been pulled too tight over his skeleton, ribs and shoulders poking out sharply, daring to break through the flesh. 

The black of his hair was brown now, hanging limply in his face. Graduation was about a week away and he doubted that he would attend the ceremony – he'd get his doctor or his mother to write a note to the school. They had already excused him from the rest of his classes, after all there weren't any important assignments left. 

Dean had dropped by a few times since his phone call, usually unannounced. He was getting better at hiding his shock when he saw Castiel and the younger boy knew it wouldn't be long until he broke things off. 

Why stick around to nurture someone - some dirty thing who might never be able to give him what he wants out of fear of being raped? He was basically worthless now, used up and wasted so nobody else could have him. 

Cas sank to the cold floor, eyes tracing the grout lines of the tiling as his thoughts raced. He supposed it would be easier on Dean if he ended it himself, save the older boy the trouble of thinking up the 'it's not you, it's me' speech. Except it was me, his mind cried out. It had been Castiel's fault. He could have gone back inside, screamed a little earlier instead of waiting for the gag to be in his mouth. Fuck, he should have fought back harder.

If he hadn't of come out so soon, hadn't of provoked Aze, he probably wouldn't be in this mess. His heart was hammering now, fingers balling in his hair and pulling. Yes, it was his fault. He must have done something wrong. His brain raced through everything Azazel had told him.

He'd been too explicit with Dean in public, that's it. He kissed him one too many times, touched him the wrong way once or twice. Fuck, he messed this up. He messed up the whole fucking thing, not just for him but for Dean too. 

What would Dean do when they were over? 

Fuck, too much thinking! He needed this to be done. Castiel was tired of living in fear of Azazel. He could do something to make it stop, dammit! His fist slammed into the side of the tub. He could make this end, he could end this for everyone. No more trouble for him or Aze or Dean. 

He staggered to his feet. There was a razor blade in the cupboard somewhere... He rooted through the small plastic baskets, knocking some over in his rush. Shit, they're all fucking sensitive skin razors, designed not to cut you. Castiel blinked back the angry tears and struggled down the stairs. His father had had an exacto-knife in the garage, he remembered it from when they had moved here and used it to cut open boxes. 

Cas opened the door to the garage and started rooting around in toolboxes. He ignored the insistent knocking at the front door, tossing aside another bin to reach for a new one. If he had to, he'd use a kitchen knife. The knocking continued for several minutes before there was a growl outside. Castiel heard the front door swing open.

“Cassie? What are you looking for?” Balthazar's silky accent glided through the door of the garage. “Didn't you hear the door?” He stepped across the threshold, completely unaware and sat cross legged beside him. “Cas?” His brow furrowed and he looked towards the toolboxes strewn about the floor, wrenches and screwdrivers scattered. “Do you need help looking for something?”  
“Yes.” Castiel replied stiffly.  
“Cassie, are – are you crying?” He detected a note of concern in his cousin's voice.  
“No, not anymore.”  
“Well, what are you looking for? I'll help you,”  
“An exacto-knife,” Balthzar's eyes widened.  
“What the bloody Hell do you need that for?” He exclaimed. 

His question went unanswered because Cas found what he was looking for. He stood up slowly, holding the blade up the the light. Castiel shouldered clumsily past his cousin and into the house.  
“I should probably do this in the bathtub,” he said to the bewildered blonde behind him, “It'll be an easier clean up.”  
“What?!” The smaller boy hurried up the stairs, not looking back to make sure the Brit was following. “Castiel!” He pulled his phone out as he tore upstairs after his cousin, speed dialling Dean as he went. 

When he reached the bathroom, the dark-haired boy was already rolling up his sleeves. “Cas!” He darted forward and snaked his arm around Castiel's waist, hauling him backwards away from the tub. “Come on, Dean, pick up,” he muttered. Castiel flailed in Balthazar's grip,  
“No!” He shrieked, “Don't call Dean! Stop it!” He reached blindly for the phone.  
“Hello?”  
“Dean!” Balthazar cried in relief,  
“Balthazar? What the hell-”  
“Dean! You need to come to Castiel's house,”  
“I have Sammy with me right now, I'll be over in about half an hour,”  
“No! Dean you need to come right now!”  
“Dean! It's okay, you don't have to come!” Cas yelled, struggling to get away.  
“Balthazar! What the fuck is going on?!”  
“Dean, it's fine! I'm fine!” Came a strained reply from the smaller boy. 

“I'll be there in five minutes.”  
%%%%

“Castiel, stop!” The dark haired boy had turned vicious after his cousin had called Dean. He had whirled and started fighting back, like he should have when Azazel came after him. He shoved the blonde backwards, tripping him up on the bathroom mat. He saw his chance and pushed his cousin again, the taller boy knocking his shoulder on the door frame as he fell into the hallway, completely shocked as the bathroom door slammed in his face and locked.

He pounded on the door frantically, “Cas, come on! Don't do this,” he pleaded.  
“I have to,” the door muffled his reply. Castiel knelt in front of the bathtub slowly and pulled his sleeves back up. The knife sat on the closed toilet lid, gleaming mockingly in the fluorescent bathroom lighting. 

Bet you can't do it, his mind taunted, you'll probably fuck this up too, just like you did your relationship. He reached to pick up the knife, his hands shaking uncontrollably when he felt it's weight in his hand. Castiel startled as he heard the door slam and the sound of feet pounding up the stairs. His ears strained to hear what was going on.

He immediately recognized Dean's voice as Balthzar filled him in.  
“He wouldn't talk to me. I let myself in when he didn't answer the door and he was rooting around in the garage for an exacto-knife,”  
“Fuck. And now he's locked himself in there?”  
“After trying to kill me, yes.”  
“Jesus fucking Christ.” 

 

Do it! His brain screamed, Do it before they stop you. He turned back to the tub ignoring Dean as his soon to be ex tried to lure him into opening the door. Distantly, Cas heard whispering and then quiet feet scurrying downstairs. Drawers slammed and the foot steps came again. The knob jiggled and the door swung open with a small creak as Dean pushed his way in.

Castiel was on his knees at the edge of the bathtub, shoulders hunched and head bent. The older boy stepped closer and saw one of Cas's hands extended over the drain, turned up to bare the creamy flesh of his wrist, and the other gripping the knife tightly. His whole body was quivering as he stared at his arm, eyes frozen on the currently unmarked skin. Dean drew closer and gently took the younger boy's wrists in his hand, taking the weapon and setting it on the sink.

“Cas, come on.” The smaller boy jumped at the contact, instinctively pulling away from Dean's touch. He fought to put up the wall, but each brick crumbled when he tried to build it higher. “Castiel,” his voice was soft, pleading and Dean reached for him again, fingers hesitant. 

He turned away from the touch, leaning away from Dean and his pained green eyes and sad smile. Castiel was dragging him down alongside him and it would kill him. “Cas, let's go downstairs. I brought you something,” he drew away, backing out the door and offering his hand, waiting patiently. Cas furrowed his brow, debating if he should follow or not. 

“Cas, please,” and it was probably the desperation in Dean's voice that won him over because the next thing he knew, he was sitting downstairs at the breakfast bar beside his boyfriend. 

It turns out that Dean's present was a Cherry Crush Slurpee and a new memory card for his camera.  
“Dean,” he started to protest.  
“Cas, seriously. The card was on sale so all together I only spent like fifteen bucks. Consider it an early grad present.” He smiled cheerfully and nuzzled Cas's cheek playfully.  
“Thank you, Dean.” He replied stiffly, not really sure if he could fake a believable laugh. Balthazar regarded his cousin's friend in disbelief, clearly wondering when Dean had had time to get the presents. The two shared a look and returned their attention to Castiel.

“I hate to be a Debbie Downer,” started Balthazar, and Castiel knew he was in for it, “But Castiel, you did sort of just attempt suicide.” Whatever chance they had of lightening the mood died right about then, Dean biting his lip and turning his head to try to regain his composure.

It's hard to try to be strong when your boyfriend had been beaten and sent to hospital for a number of days and then put on house arrest for the rest of the school year because of extreme mental trauma. When he soon after attempts a suicide after ignoring you for days, even when you're in the same room, it tends to do something to your head. 

“Cas, you're going to have to talk about it sometime. I know that ten minutes after the event probably isn't the greatest time for it, nor the most realistic, but this has been going on for weeks. You've barely said a word to myself or Anna by phone or text, you ignore everyone when they come calling. Fuck, Castiel – you aren't eating!” Cas flinched at the volume of his cousin's voice, cowering away from the frustration burning in his eyes.

“Stop it! I dislike conflict,” he hissed, backing out of the kitchen hastily.  
“Cas,” Dean's voice was low, careful to keep from shouting, “Buddy, I know this is hard for you-”  
“How could you know?!” Came the screamed reply. Castiel's eyes were welling up, tears fighting their way free. “How the hell would you know, Dean?” Both blondes were taken aback, Balthazar held up his hands defensively as Dean frowned. He moved closer, slowly, oh so slowly.  
“Cas, I-”  
“No! Don't talk to me like you know what I've been through!” Dean's eyes turned hard.  
“See, Cas, that's the fucking thing! You're not the only one here that's had a shitty life okay?! My mom is dead! My father is a raging alcoholic who sometimes 'forgets' to come home for a week. I've been looking after my little sister since I was four years old,” his jaw clenched, fists balling at his sides, “And fuck you! Hell if I don't know what you've been through, Cas! I've been here for you ever since I found you half-dead in the parking lot three months ago,”

Castiel whirled on him, eyes red and wet.  
“Then where the fuck were you when he raped me?!” His eyes widened when he realized what he'd just blurted. Eyes blazing furiously at the thought of someone touching Castiel that way.  
“He did what?!” Dean roared,  
“Fuck,” Cas muttered, “You weren't supposed to know.” He looked towards Dean, biting his lip at the ghostly pallor of his skin and the wide, stricken emerald eyes.  
“The hell do you mean, I wasn't supposed to know? When were you planning on telling me?”  
“Probably never,” he admitted bitterly, “I was going to break it off the next time I saw you,” Dean's eyes finally welled up.  
“What?” Castiel sighed, as if it should be obvious.  
“Dean, I'm dragging you down with me. I-I'm, I'm dirty-”  
“Castiel Novak, you are not 'dragging me down with you' and you sure as hell are not dirty.” 

His voice was firm and stepped towards him, enveloping him in a loose hug, so that the smaller boy could push away if he wanted to. But he didn't. He simply stood and let himself be hugged, he followed Dean to the couch where they sat and held on to each other, crying on and off. Dean absently acknowledged the sound of the front door clicking closed as Balthazar left, completely forgetting that Cas's cousin was in the room after the horrifying revelation. Cas whimpered quietly, tucking himself in farther into the crook of Dean's arm.  
“I'm gonna kill that son of a bitch,” Dean hissed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> First and foremost, I'd like to say this is the most difficult chapter I've ever written. I tried to keep Castiel's reaction as realistic as possible without the angst scale going of the chart, however I kind of botched that up with the suicide. I did my best, as this is the first time I've ever written a rape into a story (I have done a few where the character has had several years to recover - at least as well as a sex abuse victim can).
> 
> I am willing to go back and revise a little bit so if you have any  
> ideas to make Cas's reaction more realistic I'd absolutely be open to advice... 
> 
> On another (slightly brighter) note, I think that I'd be open to a beta for this chapter as well as the chapters to come.. mostly just a backup for spelling and someone to bounce ideas off of. Let me know if you'd like the job and we can go from there.


	9. Also, His Eyes

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Only once, out of nine posts, have I ever actually posted on a Saturday. I'm going to go ahead and say the post date will be Saturday or Sunday, depending on how slow I'm writing. This chapter was a struggle. I was going to post it at three pages, but then I drank a Pepsi and pushed through to... four and a half! I couldn't go any longer without it sounding forced (more than it already is) so there ya go.
> 
> Also, in happier, less self-hating news, I found my beta! dark_renegade_angel has the job! Yay :)

Despite Dean's support and constant reassurance, Castiel was far from recovery. There were less than three days until the graduation ceremony and though Cas doubted he could make it, he had called the school and informed them of his attendance. 

It had been his mother's idea. Castiel had confided in Dean that he honestly did not want to go, that he would probably have an anxiety attack when he walked past the bleachers and that he would almost definitely cry. Dean being Dean had smiled softly, kissed his forehead and told him what he thought. 

He said that it was obviously Castiel's decision, but it might be nice for him to participate, to receive his diploma firsthand rather than having it delivered in an envelope to his doorstep. Dean had also reminded Cas that since the attack, the younger boy hadn't really left his house and that if he did plan on going to the grad ceremony, he should probably work his way up to being around a large group of people, rather than diving right in. 

Which is why he was walking with Dean downtown, sipping at a Blue Raspberry Slurpee. The Cherry Crush had been a limited time flavour and apparently it hadn't been popular enough for the convenience store to keep it around. He knew for sure that his tongue and teeth were blue and that Dean, during different circumstances, would have tried to lick the food colouring away with a giddy laugh. 

Instead, the older boy simply held Cas's hand, thumb brushing idly against the inside of his wrist.   
“How are you doing, Cas?” Dean asked quietly, looking at him questioningly and what he really meant was 'Do you want to go home?'   
“I'm okay,” he said, just as quiet. In truth, he was almost content. Unless they walked past an empty alley or a sketchy storefront, he was just about comfortable. Dean's hand was his anchor, and without his boyfriend Cas would probably be dead. Or not. Because then Azazel wouldn't have had a reason to-

“Cas,” Dean chided gently, “Stop it. You're thinking about him again,”  
“How-?”  
“Your eyes get really dark and you tense up like someone's gonna hit you,” he replied, voice devoid of emotion. Castiel looked up curiously, studying Dean's face for any sign of dangerous behaviour. The muscles in his jaw jumped, a trait Cas had come to realize meant that Dean was trying to conceal his anger.

Fuck, now Dean was mad at him. Cas bit his lip nervously and fell silent, shoulders hunching as if he was trying to curl in on himself like a frightened armadillo. They continued down the street in silence, much more uncomfortable than before Dean had spoken. 

After they passed the third shop without even so much as glancing inside, Castiel halted in the middle of the sidewalk, earning him several annoyed glared and muttered insults.  
“I'm sorry,” Dean's brows furrowed in confusion. He tugged on Cas's hand to pull him over to the side.   
“What? Why? You've got nothing to be sorry for,”   
“You're mad.” Said Castiel. He pulled at the hem of his t-shirt absently and there was suddenly something on the ground that was terribly interesting, or at least there must have been because that's where Cas's eyes were glued.   
“Oh. No, Cas, I'm not mad at you at all, it's okay.” The smaller boy continued to work his lip between his teeth, still doubtful. “Baby,” Dean pulled Cas into his chest for a loose hug, “I'm not mad at you. I'm mad at him. I'm furious that he did this to you,” he pressed a firm kiss to Castiel's hairline and hugged him tighter. “Hey, let's get some fries, huh?” He asked, though it didn't completely sound like a question. He felt a small nod against his chest and he released his bed-headed boyfriend to pull him towards the fry truck.  
%%%%

They returned to Castiel's house shortly after three thirty and met Naomi on her way out the door, suitcase in tow.   
“Hello boys,” she smiled, pausing to give her son a quick kiss on the cheek. Cas hummed a response and shifted closer to Dean, who answered with a polite 'hello'. “Castiel, I'm gone for a conference in New York, and then I've that job interview at the hospital there. The conference should last   
about two days, maybe three if the Board Director is feeling like a bitch.” her face screwed up at the thought, “The interview will likely be a few hours long so I'm adding in an extra day. I was hoping to do some shopping as well, so if I feel up to it then I'll stay longer,” she smiled sadly. 

It was Naomi's first time away for longer than two days since the accident. She had been talking to Castiel all week about the interview, and that if she got the position, she would buy a two bedroom apartment for when he visited from college. 

“Five days then?” Castiel asked, only a little disappointed. His mother had seemed to be away more often than she was home before the attack, which would be a perk for more reckless teenagers he supposed, although on the bright side, living alone in college wouldn't be so different than his high school life. He'd been getting used to having her around and he supposed it would be difficult for him to re-adapt.  
“Yes, that's what I'm expecting. If anything changes I'll phone and let you know.” Another quick kiss and then she was gone, her SUV disappeared from the driveway once more. 

“Hey, Cas?” Dean asked once he had settled down on the couch, “Does it bug you that your mom's away so much?”   
“A little, but it's kinda like living in an apartment that someone else pays for,” he replied, trying to keep the tone light. Dean huffed a laugh.  
“Kinda like having a sugar daddy?” He smirked. Cas snorted and rolled his eyes,  
“Yeah, except I don't do anything gross for it. I just exist and go to weird surgeon parties to make her look good.” Dean's face fell. Is that really what Castiel thought he was to his mother? Arm candy?  
“Weird surgeon parties?” He clarified, instead of asking the questions that were blowing through his brain.  
“Yeah, you know, like benefit dinners and stuff. Charity galas, where rich people spend their money for a better cause.” Castiel sounded vaguely pissed off about the whole idea of it. “I'll take you sometime so that we can make out in the bathroom and play footsie under the table while people bid thousands of dollars on random shit.” 

Dean smiled and the expression caught as he looked at Castiel, really looked, and saw how beautiful he was. He supposed that he should be worrying about the fact that his boyfriend's family was apparently insanely rich, but instead he really just wanted to show Cas how ultimately perfect he was.

Cas was standing a little to the side of the TV, fiddling around with the remote and he wore a mask of mild annoyance when the batteries kept falling out whenever he put another one in. His ebony hair was swept up in it's usual windstorm disarray and his was wearing a plain grey tee and black skinny jeans. He had mismatched socks on, likely the result of dressing in a hurry, and his perfect pink lips were turned down in an increasingly-pissed off frown. 

Also, his eyes. His brilliant blue, endless blue eyes. He could lose himself in those eyes, and he found himself tumbling head-over-heels, deeper and more hopelessly in love with the beautiful wreck that was Castiel every time he got caught up in those sad, sapphire eyes. 

And he had no idea. Castiel believed he wasn't worth saving, he believed that he was just another kid who was down on his luck, who'd been dealt the wrong hand in the pointless pile of shit that was life. Thought he was nothing but an expensive accessory. He didn't know that Dean would probably trade his soul for Castiel, he was oblivious to the fact that, should he ever consider leaving, Dean would fall to his knees and beg for him to stay. He didn't know that to Dean Winchester, Castiel Novak was everything.

“Cas,” Dean choked out, he needed to know. He had to know how stupidly stunning he was.   
“Mhm?” And he didn't even look up from that stupid fucking remote,  
“Cas,” fuck, he sounded desperate, and this time the younger boy turned around, slightly confused.   
“Dean?” His voice hitched, worry creeping in at the edges.   
“Castiel, I-I love you.” The remote fell to the floor, whatever batteries he'd managed to actually get in flying everywhere.  
“You-” there was adorable little head tilt. He was so naive, Castiel. Dean surged forward off the couch and pressed a hectic kiss to Cas's lips.  
“I fucking love you so much, Cas.”   
“I love you too, Dean.” And this time he felt it. He felt it punch through him and take over. 

They kissed, falling back onto the couch. Dean shucked up his boyfriend's shirt, kissing as much as he could between breathes, paying special attention to Cas's scars, tongue dipping into his belly button momentarily as he licked at the edge of his waistband.   
“You're so beautiful, Cas. You don't even know.”  
“Dean,” he keened in response, fingers digging into the older boy's hair.   
“Tell me if you want me to stop, Castiel.” Dean said firmly, pressing a kiss in the centre of Castiel's toned stomach. He'd lost weight since Azazel. The younger boy nodded mutely, fingers grazing Dean's cheek lovingly. “Cas, I'm serious. If you feel uncomfortable or if I'm doing something wrong I need you to stop me, okay?”  
“Okay. Yes,” he gasped as Dean continued with his torso, pulling the shirt off all the way and tossing it away. Lips locked around Castiel's left nipple and with tongue and gentle bites it stiffened into a pink peak. Dean worshipped Castiel, murmuring small words of encouragement and praise, telling him how beautiful he was and how brave he is. He showed Castiel that he was perfect, every inch of him. 

%%%%

They didn't have sex. Somehow, Dean knew that Castiel wasn't ready. It was too soon after the attack and that hadn't been the point of it. 

He wasn't stupid, Dean knew full well that he hadn't cured Cas. It'd take a lot more than some kissing and a bunch of murmured compliments to help him recover, if he ever did. The older boy understood that Cas might not 'recover' and that he would never return to being the same Cas, let alone get over the attack. 

Most people at school thought that Dean was insensitive and cold, and that was partially his fault for acting that way, but that was because they rarely saw how he interacted with the people that he loved. He wanted nothing more than to make Castiel feel wanted, to make him feel happy and whole again. 

“Dean?” Castiel stirred in his arms. After their heated afternoon, the boys had watched Fringe on Netflix until they had both fallen asleep on the couch tangled in each other. “What time is it?”  
“About seven, why?”  
Silence. Castiel was gnawing on his lip, eyes shifting uncomfortably. “Cas?”   
“I, uh, I think I want to go to school. At least for a half day,” Dean beamed,  
“That's great, Cas! Er, we have both morning classes together today, I can sit with you if you want,” he offered hesitantly.  
“Please,” the smaller boy's response was strained. “I don't even remember what classes we have,” he murmured anxiously.  
“Art and History,” Dean said. He tried to contain his excitement. It was fully possible that he had nothing to do with the fact that he picked today to go back. “You have Homeroom after lunch,” 

Dean knew that Cas liked Ms. Barnes. Secretly he had always envied him, Ms. Barnes sounded a hell of a lot nicer than his own teacher, Mr. Walker, who also taught History. Today was probably the best day to go back since they had Gabriel first period, who tended to baby Cas anyways, and Mr. Walker didn't take any shit in his classroom. Ms. Barnes, however nice and laid-back also had a strict no bullying policy that, if violated, could get you expelled. 

“Yeah, then it's Gym. I think I'll ditch that though. I'll go get ready.” He untangled himself from Dean and stood up to get dressed.   
%%%%

They arrived at school early, so the boys rushed upstairs to meet Gabriel. Once they stepped across the threshold, Gabriel was on his little brother. He wrapped his arms around the protesting Castiel and kissed his temple.   
“Cassie,” he breathed, “I'm so happy you're okay, you never returned my calls.”   
“Sorry.” The older man stepped back and grinned, walking towards the back of the room.   
“Some dipshit broke the Keurig while you were away so I brought the kettle back to life!”  
He moved on, rightly deciding not to dwell too much on the depressing stuff, as was expected of fun-loving Gabe.   
“If I remember, it was you who broke the Keurig, Gabe.” Dean pointed out.   
“Whatever, no one cares Dean-o,” he replied haughtily. Cas grinned and moved to sit on the sofa. 

Once the hot chocolate was ready, they sat around and played games. Gabriel started once where they had to come up with the strangest name for a city.   
“Bowling Green,” said Dean. Gabriel scoffed,  
“Intercourse,”   
“Dildo, Newfoundland.” Cas smirked and that was the end of that game.   
%%%

First period passed without issue, the rest of the class too asleep to care about anything other than their travel mugs of coffee. Second period was a bit more uncomfortable, Mr. Walker had welcomed Cas back gruffly and shot down a few guys who had tried teasing Castiel and Dean when they sat together at the back of the classroom. They transitioned into lunch, opting to sit in the Impala and eat rather than positioning themselves to be stared at in the cafeteria. 

Dean can admit that he had a mini heart attack when he had to leave Cas and go to third period, kissing him firmly and repeating several of the things he'd said yesterday.   
“I love you,” he murmured before walking away to P.E.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Question time;
> 
> Would you guys prefer that I squish two chapters together from now on a possibly update bi-weekly, or are you okay with the shorter chapters every week?


	10. It's A Long Way To The Top

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So I wrote this chapter in a sleepy daze last night, assuming that I would continue to work on it this evening. I took a look at it, did some tweaking because sleepy me seemed to forget that Cas was indeed recovering from a trauma and then decided I didn't want to add any more. This chapter is about as fluffy as I could bear to make it without distracting from Castiel's recovery. Only about three pages long, this'll be a little gift chapter because I love you all so much. Thanks for all the great comments and encouragement - enjoy! (There should still be a chapter on Saturday as well).

“Castiel? Could you wait a moment, please?” Ms. Barnes asked as the rest of the class stood up to file out of the room. Several students sent curious glances his way and he frowned. “I'd like to speak to you,” Castiel's gaze flicked to the door where he could see Dean hovering around in the hallway anxiously.

He had promised Dean that he would hurry so they could get out of school. The older boy had promised Castiel a surprise involving food so he wanted to leave quickly.

“Sure, I guess.” He tried to keep the worry from his voice as he sat back down at his desk. He fiddled with the hem of his t-shirt, picking at a loose thread. Ms. Barnes pulled up a chair and sat down beside him. Cas was thankful that he didn't have to make eye contact, the gold buttons covering the lenses of his teacher's glasses were dredging up memories of menacing yellow eyes. 

“Castiel, you're not in trouble,” she soothed, “I just wanted to see how you were doing. I heard what happened,” the dark haired boy's gaze snapped up and he froze. She knew. The teachers must all know. “Castiel? I heard you were attacked and beaten. I just wanted to make sure it wasn't a rumour and that it wasn't one of the students here that had done it,” her voice was quiet and motherly, fingers clasping in her lap. 

His shoulders sagged with relief. She only knew about the beating. Which was still a little bit embarrassing, although it was still better than her knowing about Azazel's raping him. At least he didn't have to deal with her pitying eyes. 

“Um, yeah - I mean, yes. It wasn't anyone here,” he replied. Ms. Barnes smiled putting a comforting hand on his shoulder.  
“I'm sorry, Castiel. That's terrible,” her voice translated her anger towards that whole thing, that such a brutal event had affected one of her students. He was irked. It wasn't any of her business. “I have another class now, but if you ever need anything, let me know.” 

There was the brush off. She was offering help, but not really. She obviously has much better things to do in place of listening to a dirty kid like him. She smiled again and stood up, somewhat awkwardly and pushed the chair back to it's desk.   
“Er, thanks, Ms. Barnes.” He said stiffly before grabbing his things and scurrying out of the room. He relaxed noticeably as soon as he stepped out the door and into the emptying hallway.

Dean pounced on him as he exited, eyes frantic, much to Castiel's confusion. “Dean?”  
“Are you okay? You're not in trouble are you? Do you need me to talk to her?” He rambled, sub-consciously taking Cas's stuff and piling it into his own arms, despite the smaller boy's protestations.  
“I'm fine. She just wanted to make sure I was okay,” he managed to conceal most of the bitterness in his voice. Great, another person to coddle him. He had liked Ms. Barnes, up until she decided he was a charity case. At least there was only a day left.   
“Are you okay?” Their gazes met, green on blue and Cas bit his lip. It was unexpected, how uneventful his day had been. Aside from last period. No trouble and hardly any questions regarding his absence.   
“Surprisingly, yeah.” Once he got past the concerned stares.

 

He smiled, bumping shoulders with Dean when the older boy turned pensive, startling him into a grin. “Hey, stop brooding!” He teased, brushing his shoulder against Dean's once more. Over the past week or so he'd gotten good at mimicking normal emotions, and although he wasn't yet one hundred percent, it was easier when he wasn't mopey and depressed.   
“I am not brooding,” Dean protested, “I was just thinking,”   
“Wow! I'm surprised you didn't had a stroke, good job, Dean!”   
“Is that sarcasm I detect?” The taller boy exclaimed, eyebrows shooting up. “You're in a good mood,” he observed. Castiel stuck out his tongue, willing some kind of acceptable expression into his eyes.  
“I dunno, I guess. It's weird.” He shrugged, and Dean pressed a kiss to his temple,  
“Just like you,” Castiel elbowed him halfheartedly,  
“I know I'm not cured, but, I don't know I just... I feel like I can actually get through this,” he lied. 

It wasn't much of a fib, he didn't feel like killing himself today. He couldn't do that to Dean. He had somehow managed to talk to people in English without having a heart attack, that was good, right?  
“Are you high?” Dean joked, eyes smiling almost as much as his mouth.  
“Shut up!” They rounded the corner and started up the staircase to get to their lockers. “I guess I'm just happy that I managed to get through the day without having an anxiety attack. I can't – I can't explain it. If today had gone worse, I doubt I'd feel the same.”  
“Well, there's still tomorrow and then it's grad night.” Said Dean. Maybe it was a fluke, but Castiel felt like he was getting better. But only a little bit. As Dean looked away, Cas let the smile fall from his face. It was hard to smile.

%%%%

“Holy fuck, Dean!” Shouted Castiel as his boyfriend sped around yet another corner, hands shooting out to grip the dashboard in fright. Dean cackled loudly and floored the Impala towards the city limits. “Can you not go fifty bazillion miles over the speed limit?!” Cas cried, falling back into the seat and digging his nails into the seat belt as the Impala's engine revved and the car continued to gain momentum. “Dean!” He squealed as the neglected speed limit sign whipped past. The older boy tossed his head back and laughed again, reaching forward to turn up the music.   
“Sorry, I can't hear you – the music's too loud!” 

The road was empty, not a car in sight as the older boy eased off the gas, falling to only ten over the limit. Castiel relaxed a bit as AC/DC blared from the speakers, easing into the comfort of driving with Dean. He watched his boyfriend fondly as he drummed his hands on the steering wheel in time to the drums and sang along with the guitar riffs. He closed his eyes, wind rushing in through the open window and ruffling his already dishevelled hair. 

_Ridin' down the highway  
Goin' to a show  
Stop in all the byways  
Playin' rock 'n' roll  
Gettin' robbed  
Gettin' stoned  
Gettin' beat up  
Broken boned  
Gettin' had  
Gettin' took  
I tell you folks  
It's harder than it looks_

Dean sang along quietly, eyes on the road and seemingly not a care in the world. He tossed his arm across the back of the seat, fiddling with the collar of Cas's shirt as he belted out the chorus. Cas grinned and chimed in on the parts that he knew, earning him a smile from Dean. He felt his spirits lifting a little bit, as was the norm when spending time with Dean in the Impala.

_It's a long way to the top if you wanna rock 'n' roll  
It's a long way to the top if you wanna rock 'n' roll  
If you think it's easy doin' one night stands  
Try playin' in a rock roll band  
It's a long way to the top if you wanna rock 'n' roll _

 

Dean slowed and pulled into the Roadhouse parking lot. He switched off the stereo and parked the Impala. There weren't many people there, except some day-time drunks so the gravel lot was practically empty. The boys walked inside, Dean more confidently than Castiel and sat down in one of the booths. A familiar face walked out from behind the bar with a motherly scowl on her mug. 

 

“Dean Winchester, I know it's not a holiday so why the hell aren't you in school?” Ellen Harvelle, the school's football coach, folded her arms across her chest and stared at Dean angrily.   
“Hiya Ellen,” he replied and her gaze softened.  
“If football season weren't over and I was still at the school, you'd be bootin' your ass right back to class, mister. Lemme guess, a burger and fries for the both of you?” Castiel's eyes widened at the gruffness in her voice and the lazy grin that Dean responded with. “Hi Castiel,” she added as an afterthought, smiling at him warmly and whirling away before he could respond.

“Dean. What the hell?” He demanded. The older boy laughed heartily.  
“Ellen's been looking after me and Sammy ever since Dad fell off the wagon again,” he explained, “She and her daughter, Jo are practically family.”  
“Damn straight,” he heard, shouted from behind the bar.   
“So this is like a 'meet the parents dinner'?” Castiel asked. Dean frowned,  
“I guess it kinda is,” he broke out into a wide grin and kissed Castiel from across the table. “You ever listen to Elvis?” He asked suddenly, eyeing up the the jukebox.  
“Never. I hate him.” Dean laughed,  
“Good. Jo loves him but I don't see why people dig him so much,” Castiel let a small smile slip as Dean stood up to put on some Def Leppard.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I have too many notes! Aah! 
> 
> I have finally decided how this fic is going to end (what the heck? I just NOW figured it out?) and it shouldn't be too long before the final chapter. I assume there will be an extremely short epilogue, just to build on the final chapter and then that will be the end. No more than... say, six chapters? Less than ten and more than three. 
> 
> Again, thank you all for reading - I get so happy when I see there's a new comment. Also, I'd like to thank dark_renegade_angel who is beta-ing this story, she's going through the already-posted chapters at the moment, so make sure to thank her!


	11. Don't Fear The (Doctor) Reaper

The last day of school started with a phone call. 

Castiel answered his cell in a hurry, squishing it between his shoulder and ear as he pulled on a pair of pants and tried to butter a piece of toast at the same time. Dean had had to take Samantha on an emergency supply run - apparently big brother duty applies to taking your little sister to the store for tampons at seven in the morning – so Cas was stuck finding his own way to school. 

“Hello?”   
“Castiel? It's mom,” Naomi's voice crackled over the line, “I forgot to tell that I set up an appointment for you with Doctor Reaper,” Castiel almost choked on his toast.  
“I'm sorry, who?” He demanded, wiping jam and toast crumbs off his face hastily.   
“Tessa. The psychiatrist. I told you about her.” Sure she did. Castiel shuffled over to the door, zipping up his fly before pulling on his Blundstones.   
“Okay, whatever. When?” Naomi made a disapproving sound at the tone of his voice, but didn't take it farther than that. She didn't really have a right to try to discipline him, she was away too often to reinforce her punishments. Castiel grabbed his backpack and slipped outside, turning to lock the door.   
“This morning at nine,” he checked his watch. Eight thirty-two. Fuck.  
“Shi-oot,” he corrected, “ I'd better run then. Bye, mum!” Naomi spluttered, he could imagine her expression, but said a quick goodbye that was only slightly cut off when Cas hung up. 

Tessa's office was about ten blocks away, a twenty minute speed-walk from home. He grumbled and eyed his bike. The red Honda XR250 had been leaning against the side of the house for several months, awaiting the plate renewal. His mother had gotten them renewed last week as a sort of pick-me-up gift for him and his helmet was just inside the door. He considered it skeptically, groaning. The thought of showing up to school so late on a motorbike seemed almost too douchy, but the shortened travel time called to him.

So he rode it.

The roar of the engine under him reminded him what freedom felt like, and the reason why Dean loved the Impala so much slapped him in the face. Freedom and utter connection. He had a lot of memories with that bike and speeding down the street, synchronizing himself with the bike again, sent them rushing back. 

He remembered his dad giving him the bike as a birthday present. He'd bought it for two hundred bucks,assuming it would take a few days to get it up and running, change to the oil, tune it up. What he got instead was fifteen hundred dollars poorer and a whole summer's worth of bonding with his youngest son. 

Castiel squinted through the visor of his helmet, recalling the few lessons his father had given him once it had been up and running, which mostly consisted of his dad drinking beer and fifteen year-old Castiel flying into the dirt every few minutes. His dad had laughed and tossed a box of band aids at him. Son, the bike won't adapt to you, so you gotta adapt to her, he'd instructed and sat back while pubescent Cas had scratched his head and tried to understand what the hell that could mean. Now it didn't seem all that difficult to do, but then again he'd been knocked in the head falling off a couple times too. 

He slowed as he turned into the parking lot of Dr. Reaper's office. He circled the small lot, only because he had time to kill and he liked riding his dirt bike. The weather was dreary, and despite the fond memories, the grey sky reflected Castiel's mood. Having your mother call you on your way out the door to remind you to go and see the shrink wasn't quite his favourite way to wake up. In fact, on days like today, sometimes he'd rather not wake up at all.

Parking his bike, he wondered if it would be wise to tell Tessa this or if he should maybe keep it to himself so she wouldn't think he was completely suicidal. Even though he kind of was, a little bit. He pulled off his helmet and absently thought that if his hair was usually as mess, it was insane now. Dean had commented on it the other day, had said it looked like 'Hurricane Castiel'. 

Cas checked in at the front desk and pulled out his phone to text Dean. Not surprisingly, he already had about a dozen unread messages.

CAS  
GIRLS ARE METAL AS FUCK  
SAM JUST TOLD ME THIS HAPPENS EVERY MONTH  
EW DUDE NEVER EVER TOUCH A TAMPON EVER 

What the fuck? When would he ever have a reason to touch a tampon? 

OH MY GOD  
I JUST TOOK SAM HOME  
THE BATHROM LOOKS LIKE A CRIME SCENE  
ON MY WAY TO SCHOOL... WANNA MEET FOR LUNCH?

Castiel frowned and started typing out his reply, unsure if he should tell Dean he was at the shrink's. He decided against it, no need to add another thing to his list of problems. 

CAN'T. HEADACHE. SHOULD BE FINE FOR AFTER LUNCH. 

He bit his lip and tapped his foot on the floor in anticipation of Dean's response. 

YOU OKAY?  
WANT ME TO COME OVER?? 

Leave it to Dean to ditch school to sit at his boyfriend's bedside after already being late to help his sister with... girl issues. He could almost feel the concern radiating through the phone.

NO. I'LL SEE U AFTER LUNCH. :)

He added the smiley as an afterthought, it made the text seem less like he was trying to push Dean away. Dean replied with a kissy face and a 'feel better' before sending about a million heart emojis. Castiel rolled his eyes and shut off his phone.

Castiel let his eyes wander around the waiting room. It was empty, save for himself and a daunting tropical plant in the corner that could probably beat him in a fight, should the opportunity arise. There were magazines scattered around the room, piled on the few chairs that lined the wall and the single side table beside him. There were a few colouring books as well, though not a crayon in sight. Not much art on the walls, unless you counted the giant brain poster and an array of brochures pinned to the bulletin board by the door. From here, he could tell they were mostly geared towards drug addicts and heterosexual teens. 

Bored, he turned his attention to the lady behind the front desk and set about analyzing her in that way he hated being analyzed. 

The secretary, whose name was Beatrice, sat at her desk behind the window stuffing her face with chocolate covered almonds and was tapping away at the keyboard between handfuls. Her plum coloured manicure was only slightly chipped, probably from nibbling on it continuously while watching 'Wheel of Fortune' re-runs when she got home at night. Castiel guessed she was in her late fifties at least and very early seventies at most. Then again, her poorly dyed brown hair was throwing him off. She wore large purple earrings, the cheap kind that all old ladies seemed to have, and they didn't match the magenta of her shirt at all. Oh there it is, Castiel realized, his stereotypical gayness bubbling to the surface. She looked up suddenly, almost knocking her thin wire glasses from her piggish nose, startling him.   
“Castiel Novak?” Beatrice called, voice nasally and slurred, probably from all the chocolate stuck in her throat.  
“Yes,” he replied, abruptly wondering who else could be Castiel, since as far as he knew, he was the only one in the room.   
“Doctor Reaper will see you now.” She turned back to her almonds, not bothering to ask if he knew where the room was. Jesus, did he look like he should know where it was? He stood slowly and wandered over to the only door that didn't look like a closet, because lord knows he doesn't need to go back into the closet, and it turned out to be correct.

“Castiel,” Dr. Reaper was a fairly small woman with black hair and a kind face. She stood when he entered and he thought about making a joke about what a gentleman she was, but decided against it.   
“Hello,” he responded quietly and he sat down before she asked him to. He knew how this worked. “Will this take a long time?” He asked, not unkindly, “I told my boyfriend that I'd be meeting him after lunch,” Dr. Reaper's eyes widened fractionally and she jotted a quick note on her pad of paper as she sank into a horrendous plaid armchair.   
“So you're gay, then?” She asked, straight to the point. Castiel like that she got the hint that he dropped.  
“Yes. That won't be a problem, will it?” His hackles rose. Him being gay had already caused him enough pain, both mental and physical and it didn't need to continue to interfere with his recovery. Castiel winced internally. That is, if he could recover. Tessa smiled.  
“Not for me. This is our first session so it shouldn't be too long. An hour at most.” 

She took a few moments to get settled, arranging papers and pens and herself before getting started with the questions. “Your mom made this appointment, not you. Do you feel that you need to see a psychiatrist?” Castiel nibbled at his lip.  
“I mean, I didn't think so, but now I'm looking back and reconsidering.” She nodded and scribbled down another note.  
“Okay, why do you think you should see a psychiatrist?” Tessa looked up from her paper inquisitively.   
“I suppose because I tried to kill myself a little while ago,” she furiously wrote the next note as she spoke.  
“Does your mom know that you're suicidal?”  
“I doubt it. She's away a lot and she was at work at the time,”   
“How do you feel about that? Does it bother you ?” Hey Cas? Does it bug you that your mom's away so much? Castiel shrugged.  
“Not really. I'm used to it,” Dr. Reaper frowned and added another note.  
“Alright. Does anyone else know about your suicide attempt?” No, he felt tempted to say, just to fuck her up.  
“Um, my cousin Balthazar. And Dean, my boyfriend.” 

She asked him to talk about his relationship with the two boys, to explain the situation and how they knew. She asked a lot of questions about Dean, when they met, how they met and weird shit like that. Tessa focused on Dean, why, Cas didn't know. 

“You're fairly close to Dean, then?”   
“Yeah, I love him a lot.” Tessa's eyebrows shot up under her bangs and she bent her head to write a note, dragging it out, or so it seemed.  
“Out of all your close friends, who do you spend the most time with?” Her words were weighted, indicating that this was an extremely important question. It wasn't much of a question, he knew who it was by far.  
“Dean,”  
“If something ever happened to Dean-”  
“I'd die. I would die because there would be no one to keep me from killing myself the next time,” Tessa pressed her lips together and nodded.   
%%%%

He was in a bad mood for the rest of the day. He rode his bike to school, ignoring the appraising looks from any girls outside. Castiel forced a smile when he saw Dean jogging towards him, lazy, lopsided grin in place. When the older boy reached his side, Castiel accepted a chaste kiss on the cheek and then another on the mouth. Dean fluttered his eyelashes against Cas's cheek, earning him a brighter grin. 

Cas pocketed his keys and leaned into Dean as an arm was thrown around his shoulders, pulling him against the taller boy's side. They walked through the front doors like this, much to Castiel's embarrassment, managing to distance themselves once they walked into History. 

The period passed slowly, Castiel's mind more on his conversation with Dr. Reaper than the lesson, his thoughts drifting back to her over-exaggerated expressions. She had seemed mostly surprised at what he had to say and very insistent on writing notes. It really was just a cheesy as the movies in Cas's opinion. 

She had been ultimately concerned with his relationship with Dean, admitting that at first she wondered if it was an abusive relationship judging from some of the scars he had. Of course that had led to a brief discussion about Azazel and the attack, which had turned into some sort of build-up, his mental wall shooting up high enough that the psychiatrist couldn't climb over the top, as they often do. 

He should maybe be worried that he demonstrated such an obvious fear to 'the enemy' but instead he was wondering how he could tell Dean about Tessa. He gnawed on the inside of his lip, tearing off a thin strip of skin between his teeth. 

%%%%  
“Cas,” Dean murmured, prodding him softly. The smaller boy started awake and looked around, bewildered. He had dozed off on the couch while he and Dean watched Lord of the Rings. It was Friday night and he was safe, wrapped up in Dean. He pressed closer, if it was physically possible and pulled a small hum of contentment from his boyfriend, who nuzzled into his hair.

Castiel twisted to kiss Dean, a rare occurrence that often took the older boy by surprise. He kissed back, allowing Cas to deepen the kiss of he wanted and only taking what was given. Castiel internally thanked Dean for being so accepting and patient with him, anyone else and he'd be alone probably suffering major blood-loss from his wrists. 

Dean broke away to press his face into the curve of Castiel's neck, inhaling deeply. “Mm, you smell good,” he mumbled. Cas stayed quiet, running his fingers through his companion's hair adoringly. He felt a hesitant kiss to his collarbone and he looked down at Dean, who was looking up at him and smiled slowly. 

Dean pushed his hands under Cas's shirt carefully and slid down off the couch to his knees. He pressed a kiss to to scarred point of the raven-haired boy's hip. His fingers traced gentle patterns into Castiel's ribs and as he kissed his way across Castiel's waistband leisurely, he would occasionally look up to make sure he was okay. 

Every time he did, Cas's eyes were closed and he had a pleased expression on his face. Dean trembled with the effort of holding back and all he wanted was for Cas to feel better, he wanted Cas to smile more often and he wanted him to be happy like he was before. 

Soft lips kissed up Castiel's abdomen and Dean tried to translate these feelings into the smaller boy's skin. Dean hated Azazel for the scars he felt under his lips, he hated him for hurting Cas and he despised him for making Cas despise himself. He looked to Castiel's face again, checking to see if he was comfortable.

Long fingers were suddenly in his short hair, pulling him up to the slighter boy's mouth. Lips were on his in an instant, Castiel desperate for Dean in the dark and the quiet of the living room. The movie had been switched off at some point, probably while Dean had been on the floor and now he could only see the endless blue of Cas's eyes. 

Castiel fumbled at Dean's waistband, knuckles brushing against the arousal there, making the older boy gasp. “Cas,” he marvelled, eyes intense and wondering.   
“I want to, Dean.” Then it was Castiel on his knees. 

Cas knew Dean would be the only one receiving gratification that night. With Azazel still a steady weight on his mind, he doubted he could make it past the removal of his underwear before tightening up and having a panic attack. 

He pulled down the zipper of Dean's fly and eased the jeans down off of tanned hips and past calloused knees then off bare feet. Dean was looking at him, eyes dark with arousal and concern. Though he would probably be getting off, he still wanted Cas to be okay with this.  
“Cas, you don't have to do this,” he breathed as his boxer-briefs were slowly removed, releasing his throbbing cock.   
“I want to,” came the reply. 

The wet heat of Castiel's mouth enveloped his tip,making Dean hiss. Castiel hollowed his cheeks and bobbed down the the base, taking Dean down his throat and dragging his tongue along the sensitive underside as he drew back up. He saw the older boy's hands clamp down on the couch cushions.   
“Cas,” he breathed as he watched the boy's dark head dipping and felt his tongue swirling. Fingers pressed at the spot behind his balls as Cas took him deep again, humming around Dean's cock, the vibrations shooting through his body. 

As his insides tightened, Dean guessed he wouldn't lat much longer. “Cas,” the younger boy sped up and used one hand to press at his perineum and the other to pump whatever part of Dean's cock he couldn't swallow up with his mouth. “Cas- I'm gonna-” teeth carefully grazed his head and he looked down just as Cas looked up at him with his brilliant blue eyes.

That was all it took and he was suddenly coming, hot and thick. “Castiel!” He cried, hips bucking up into Cas's mouth. “Cas, Cas, Cas-” he was cut of by the taste of salt and musk on his lover's lips. 

He went for the button of Castiel's pants but was hurriedly pushed away.   
“I-I'm sorry,” he stammered, blue eyes wide and pleading.   
“It's okay, I understand.”   
“No you don't,” he suddenly blurted, “Not really. But that's alright,” he smiled sympathetically, then leaned in to kiss Dean's now-stricken face. “I love you, Dean.” It was an odd time to say it, but he meant it so why shouldn't he?  
“Love you too, Cas.” 

And hell if his voice didn't sound heartbroken.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Only a chapter or two left... I've really enjoyed writing this story :)


	12. Make Me Clean

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So here it is, the last chapter. These past couple of months have been both horrible and amazing. Though I loved writing this story, I'm super happy it's over.

“Take it away, Dean.” Cas pleaded one night as he pulled away from one of their heated kisses. “Just, take it away.” Dean's brow furrowed in confusion. They were curled up under a comforter in Castiel's bed despite the August heat.  
“Take what away?” The smaller boy let out a small sob and nuzzled into his boyfriend's neck, pawing at Dean's chest.  
“I'm dirty, Dean. I feel so dirty and I just want you to make me feel clean., I just want you,” he sucked at the boy's collarbone, “Please,”

And who was Dean to say no?

He shifted so that he was leaning over Castiel's lithe frame and pressed a soft kiss to the smaller boy's forehead, then his lips. Hips bucked up underneath him, searching for friction and Dean, for once in a very long time, wasn't the only one trying to satiate his arousal.  
“Cas,” he gasped as the dark-haired boy pressed up into him, drawing out and deepening their kiss. 

Nimble finger wandered, pushing up and under Dean's sleep shirt, running over his nipples and tracing shapes into his stomach. They gasped against each other as their tongues slipped and tangled, the kiss getting hotter and hotter. 

It didn't take very long for Castiel to strip them both of their pyjama pants and press their cocks together, pulling out a moan from each of them.  
“Ah, Dean,” he whimpered as a calloused hand wrapped around his length, stroking him closer to the edge. He thrusted up into his lover's hand and somehow managed to convey the message of 'lube in the drawer' before crying out and gripping the sheets. 

“D-Dean, can I-” he lifted one hand to take the half-empty bottle from his partner and shakily squeezed some into his hand. He slicked up his fingers and slipped two of them inside himself right away.  
“Cas-” Dean warned, but the younger boy shook his head.  
“I -ah! I prepped before you got here,” he gasped as he stroked over his prostate and added a third finger.  
“Fuck, Cas!” Dean's voice was strained as Castiel withdrew his fingers to apply lube to Dean's aching cock, jacking him a few times before opening his legs and biting his lip, eyes screwed shut. “Are you sure about this, Cas?” Dean verified, hands stroking up and down the smaller boy's sides. 

“Yes, Dean, please!” And that was all he needed. 

Slowly, ever so slowly, he slipped inside. Dean pushed in carefully, eyes searching Castiel's face for any sign to pull out. “Faster, Dean,” the older boy sunk in to the hilt with an elicit moan. 

He pulled out to the head and thrusted back in, occasionally changing his angle until a sharp cry notified him that he had hit Cas's prostate. His pace quickened as he continued to grind against the spot, hitting it straight on every time. He felt the pressure rising and Cas was tightening around him.  
“Ah, fuck, fuck, Cas!” Dean whined, as he came, setting off the smaller boy underneath him.  
“Dean!” He cried as he spilled over their stomachs, arching up off the mattress and screaming in pleasure. Dean collapsed onto him, pressing frantic kisses to any skin he could find. 

“I love you, Cas.” He murmured in between each one, pulling out slowly.  
“Love you too,” came the sleepy, satiated reply. “Thank you,”  
%%%%

_Several blocks over, a certain Carver Edlund startled from his alcohol-induced slumber. He'd had another of those dreams, the ones he couldn't stop thinking about until he wrote them down._

_He plodded over to his cluttered desk and sank into the shredded remains of an office chair, yawning loudly as put more paper in his typewriter. He flicked on the desk light and put on his glasses, squinting slightly at the blank page._

_He cracked his arthritic knuckles and finally woke up enough to start writing._

Chapter One; Green Eyes and an Ambulance

It wasn't too bad, the first punch. It made contact somewhere near his temple and it caused Castiel  
to stagger backwards in shock.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I do possibly have another story in the making. Another high school AU, because they're my favourite and I have a feeling it will be quite a bit more angsty than this one (no non-con in it though). I have Ch.1-9 outlined so I'll try to at least get those typed up and then I'll update every week or so, possibly biweekly. We shall see. 
> 
> Also, a happy ending for this one! (And SMUT) I felt kinda like if I didn't do a bit of a time-lapse it would just drag on forever with the angst, so here's a Cas that is feeling quite a bit better, although not entirely recovered (if one can even recover from such a thing). Anyways, the end!


End file.
